


Temptation

by kat_tia801



Category: The Royal Romance (Visual Novel)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Reality Show, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-19
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-18 07:02:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 39,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28863012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kat_tia801/pseuds/kat_tia801
Summary: Andi Connors is perfectly content with her life. Sure, her job is soul-sucking and her boss is literally Satan, but what can you expect when you work in reality television? After years of working as a producer on one of the top-rated dating shows, she has grown cynical towards love and romance. Enter a handsome stranger she thinks she will only know for one-night, making her throw caution to the wind. But when he appears at her job, will she be able to resist his charms? Could finding love be worth the risk?
Relationships: Liam Rys/Original Character(s)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 1





	1. Helping Each Other Escape 🍋

Bzzzzzz…….Bzzzzzzz………Bzzzzzzzzz

“Shut. The fuck. Up”, I curse into my pillow. I crack one eye open, just to confirm that it is still ridiculously early. I pull the covers back over my head, trying to drown out the sound of my phone vibrating on the end table. I’m not going to answer it. I refuse to answer it. It’s my last day of freedom, and only the devil himself would be calling before seven in the morning. I groan, only twenty-hour more hours before I am sucked back into the lion’s den. I deserve a bliss free day before the insanity begins. 

I’m going to need it.

I sigh happily as the buzzing momentarily stops, savoring the silence before it starts back up again. Motherfucker. 

I reach my hand out from under the covers, feeling around for the buzzing device. I catch it just as it topples over the edge of the end table. I should just let it fall, but I know that won’t help. If I don’t answer soon, the next step will be to pound on my door, claiming some catastrophic emergency that only I can solve. 

That’s what my job title should be, solver of all the bullshit problems. But instead, it reads Andi Connors, Producer. As it has for the past three seasons on our dating reality show “Royal Romance”, You know the type, the “perfect” prince charming comes on the show, claiming that he wants to find his ideal wife, his beautiful queen, only to break her heart ten minutes after the final credits roll. 

I’ve spent the last six years working my way up from production assistant to the producer, but honestly, the job isn’t that much different. I’m still fetching things for entitled assholes, while simultaneously trying to stir up drama with contestants. Silver lining- at least my paycheck is better. 

I bring the phone to my face, squinting at the screen. I know who is calling before I even look. Only one heathen insists on calling instead of texting. But I glance at the image anyway. My boss’s face stares back out at me, his eyes just as judgmental as in person. I smile as I read the caller ID, proudly displaying the name SATAN in all caps, a small dig to soothe my passive-aggressive nature.

“Hey, Bertrand,” I say, rubbing my hands over my eyes. “What’s going on?”

My boss is the type of man who is never pleased with anything, except upholding his family name. He frequently likes to remind everyone from the producers to the lowly interns that his father owns the network, therefore he owns all of our asses. One move that could tarnish the spotless Beaumont network reputation, especially their anchor show, would result in immediate termination. A lesson I had come this close to learning last season.

“Are you serious right now?” Bertrand bellows through the phone. “We start filming in two days, and that’s all you have to say? You should be here handling all of the accommodations!” 

I move the phone away from my ear, letting him scream out into the void for a few more moments. After working under Bertrand for the past six years, I’m used to his verbal lashings. His job title may be Executive Producer, but he very rarely knows anything about the day to day operations of our show. He just handles the higher-ups and screams at us when ratings fluctuate. All of the little details, those must-see moments gracing your social media feed in the morning, that’s my domain.

I sigh deeply, trying to keep my tone professional. “Bertrand, you know that today is my day off. I will be in tomorrow. For now, you need to have Maxwell handle any situations that come up.”

Maxwell is the third side of the nepotism triangle, Bertrand’s brother, and my co-producer. Even though we technically have the same job, it always seems like I’m the one running around like a crazy person, while he enjoys the perks of the Beaumont name. In the six years we’ve known each other, I have never seen him sweat, never seen him panic. He just smiles and says that everything will be alright. It makes me want to throat punch him. 

Bertrand let out a long sigh, and I can clearly picture him in my mind. His feet kicked up on his oversized, imposing desk, rubbing the arch of his nose with his forefingers, inhaling slowly. “I have already tried talking to Maxwell, he seems to be clueless about the times the women are supposed to be arriving tomorrow, much less if the palace is camera ready. Get here, now!”

The phone beeps, signaling the end of the call. I exhale deeply as I climb out of bed. You need this job, you need to work, I tell myself. I shudder thinking of rejoining the job market. It had taken me months to find this one when I first moved out here. I should have just let them fire them last season. But my need for a paycheck trumped my temporary morality crisis. 

I arrive at the “palace” less than 20 minutes later. Technically, it’s only five miles away from where I live, but the incessant traffic in LA makes it feel further. I picked my apartment because I thought it would be a short commute. 

Not that I really go home. When cameras are rolling twenty-four hours a day, I’m never able to force myself to leave. I have squirreled away, sneaking naps in the production office, vacant rooms of discarded contestants, and even tucked behind Bertrand’s desk once. But the lack of decent sleep is worth it. I never want to miss a moment, especially if it was one that I put in motion. 

I already mentioned that a large part of my job is playing gopher to the latest suitor and the women vying for his attention. However, the most important part is constantly stirring up drama. Without drama, our ratings tank, and I’m out of a job. So I spend my days whispering secrets (real or otherwise) between the women, causing them to hate each other, exposing their throats for the predators to attack. It sounds horrible, and in many ways, it is. And the worst part is….I am damn good at it. 

I walk into the production office, staring at the dozens of monitors set up on the wall, all labeled with different camera numbers. It’s jarring seeing them turned off. I’m so trained to be searching each one, looking for opportune moments to jump on. As I move to my usual spot in the front of the room, I see Maxwell leaning back in his chair, snoring slightly. 

I kick his feet off the desk, causing him to abruptly wake from his impromptu nap. He jumps up but smiles brightly when he spots me. “Andi! I thought it was your day off.”

“It’s supposed to be,” I grumble, shooting him an annoyed look. “But apparently someone never gave Bertrand the itinerary for the girls’ flights tomorrow.”

“What an asshole. You should fire that guy” He teases, shutting his eyes again. I take my pen and throw it at him, hitting him directly in the forehead. 

‘Would if I could. Not all of us were born into the Beaumont legacy.” I say, mocking the proud tone Bertrand makes when he mentions his family’s history. “Now get off your ass. You’re going to help me get all of this shit together. I am not wasting my one day off picking up your slack.”

“But you’re so much better at this stuff than me, little Blossom.” Maxwell whines.

“At copying information? Gee, thanks, Max. High praise.” I roll my eyes back at him. “And I told you to stop calling me that.” I despise the nickname, given in irony due to my not-so-sunny disposition. But at least he stopped calling me munchkin.

It would be so easy to hate Maxwell, but unfortunately, he’s the kind of person it is impossible to dislike. And trust me, I have tried. But he sucks me back in every time with his infectious laugh and positive attitude. In many ways, he’s my foil. All sunshine to my dark and twisty thorns. 

“So….” He calls out from behind the computer monitor, finally starting his assignment from hours ago. “Any big plans for your last night of freedom?”

“The usual. Drinking myself into a nice stupor so I can prepare to darken my soul a little more tomorrow.” I look through the files, noticing a major problem. “Where is the information on the suitor? We should have his information in here as well.”

“Oh yeah, Bertrand is being super shady about this guy for some reason. He is holding off on giving us any information about him until he is in the building tomorrow.”

“As long as he actually signed his contract, I don’t give a fuck who he is. I’m not going through all of that drama like in season 4.” I shudder at the memory. 

“I’m sure he did. Dad ripped him a new one for that mistake.” He wiggles his eyebrows up at me. “Aren’t you just a little bit curious about the mystery man?”

“Nope,” I say, adding extra emphasis to the last sound. “They’re all the same. Entitled pretty boy with a fragile ego and wandering eye.”

Maxwell laughed, leaning back in his chair. “Just a little cynical there, Andi?”

“Not cynical if it’s true.” I look over the reservations, double-checking all of Maxwell’s work. I peruse the files on my girls, the ones I have been courting for months. I smirk at Maxwell, shaking my files triumphantly. “I have another winner in here, I know it.” 

He rolls his eyes at my bravado. “Like that would be anything new? You’ve won the past two seasons.”

“And now, I’m going for number three. My trifecta. I feel it in my bones.”

“Yeah, yeah, yuck it up.” He held out his hand to me. “Usual bet?” 

I smile, already thinking about what I’m going to buy with all the extra cash. The prize last season had afforded me the shiny new couch that I have barely sat on. I shake his hand. “You know it. Same terms? Bonus cash for catfights, ambulance rides, and breakdowns?”

“But of course, Blossom.” He said, firmly shaking my hand. “Now, get out of here. Go get drunk enough for the both of us.”

I shoot him a wink as I glide out the door. “You know I will.”

…………………………………………………………………….

An hour later, I sit at my favorite bar, completing my pre-season ritual. While athletes and tv stars prepare for their roles with healthy eating and exercise, I prepare by drinking heavily and toasting to the end of my life outside of the palace. Ugh, I die a little when I refer to the refurbished mansion in the Hollywood hills as the palace. All part of the fairytale, Bertrand had insisted. Fuck your fairytales. You don’t want to know how many times we’ve had to disinfect the suitor’s suite. 

As I signal for another shot, someone settles in the seat next to me. He laughs pointing to the lined-up glasses in front of me, forming a small pyramid. “Long day?” he says, his voice thick with an unfamiliar accent. 

“Nope,” I say, not glancing in his direction. “Pre-emptive drinking. Preparing for a long day tomorrow.”

The stranger laughs beside me. “I know the feeling.” As the bartender comes over with my next drink, the man asks for the same. “I hope you have good taste.”

“Depends…how do you feel about cheap tequila?” I grumble from my own stool, wishing I had brought headphones, something to signal that I am not open to talking to anyone, especially nosy strangers. I turn in my seat, fully prepared to tell him off. But when I meet his eyes, my breath instantly catches in my throat. Holy shit.

The man next to me is an Adonis. I literally can’t form words, my thoughts are all blank. This never happens to me. One of my best and worst traits is my mouth. But right now, all I’m thinking is how much I want his mouth on mine, his hand wrapped in my hair, tugging my bod—

“Are you alright?” He calls out. “You’re getting quite flush.”

“Yeah, yeah. Great. Perfect in fact.” I try to cross my legs, but end up almost falling off the stool. After the amount of tequila I’ve had, gracefulness is not going to be an option. I look down at my outfit, the same old band t-shirt and ripped jeans that I had thrown on this morning. Fuck my life, only I would sit next to the most gorgeous man I had ever seen with coffee stains on my shirt. 

I shake my head, trying to pull myself out of my tequila spurned thought spiral. “I can’t place your accent. I’m guessing you’re not from around here.”

“You would be correct. I’m from a small country near Greece, I’m here for a business opportunity.”

“Sounds interesting,” I reply, trying to make my voice match his mysterious sexy vibe.

He sighs deeply, dipping back his drink. “That is yet to be seen. I’m not quite sure I know what I signed up for. Sort of feels like I’m making a deal with the devil.”

“Ha!” I call out, much louder than I intended. “Sorry, it’s just, that is my literal job. Except I’m the devil dealing out favors in exchange for small pieces of your soul.”

“Interesting. Care to elaborate?” He says, leaning closer towards me. I can smell his cologne lingering in the air between us, slowly inhaling the intoxicating aroma. Something about his closeness makes me dizzier than all of my drinks combined. 

I shake my head. “Not really. I came here to forget the nightmare that awaits me, not dwell on it.” I signal the bartender for another round, offering one to the stranger next to me. 

We back tip back our shots, making the same grimaced faces as the alcohol hits the back of our throats. 

“Any more of those, and I will not make my morning meeting.” He says while shaking his head. He holds out his hand to me. “By the way, I’m L—”

“No names. “ I say as I wave my hands, smirking back at him. “At least not real ones. For tonight, why don’t we just be two completely different people? Save our real-life problems for the morning.” I could use a little time as someone else. 

“Alright…” He smiles, shaking his head. Fuck. He’s even more handsome when he smiles. I swipe a piece of my hair behind my ear self-consciously. He pauses, eyes lifting to the ceiling as he thinks. He snaps his fingers and looks at me. “So for tonight…you can call me Fabian.”

“Fabian?” I laugh to myself. “What is this some cheesy romance novel? What happens next, are you going to sweep me off my feet and carry me off into the sunset?”

“If that’s what you would like.” He says with a wink, and I melt all the way to my core. “It’s a family name. And what shall I call you?”

I rack my brain for an answer when one suddenly comes to me. “Riley. You can call me Riley.” I shudder thinking back to my bitter high school rival. Four years of snide comments and making passes at my boyfriends, the least I could do was steal her identity for an evening.

“Well, Riley. It’s nice to meet you…sort of.”

“Right back at you. So what do you think of California?”

He laughs, staring into the bottom of the shot glass in front of him. “Honestly, so far I’ve seen the inside of a lawyer’s office and my hotel room, so pretty dull.”

“I know what you mean, when I moved out here, I thought every day would be surfing and hanging on Rodeo drive. Joke’s on me.”

“So not a native Californian then….” He turns, looking over my body with an appraising look. I involuntarily shudder as his eyes roam my body. “I’m guessing you’re originally from the East Coast….New York maybe?”

Damn, he has me pinned. Maxwell always says that the crass New Yorker radiates out of my pores. I smirk over at him, “I’ll never tell.”

“Spoilsport.” He teases. “You just don’t want to admit I’m right.”

I squint my eyes at him. “That may be true. Not saying you are right, what makes you think I’m from New York?” 

“You have a slight edge to you.” He says with a smile, telling me it’s not meant as an insult. “Not to mention, there is a hint of an accent on some of your words.”

“Uh-huh. You better not be a stalker.” I say, staring hard back at him. “I may be small, but I carry pepper spray on me at all times and I have a black belt in Tae Kwon Do. I am not one to be trifled with.”

He held his hands up in mock surrender, “I believe you, I believe you. You seem like you can take care of yourself.” His gaze wanders to the end of the bar, where the owner was stacking the stools around us. “I think they are starting to close the bar.” He looked back at me, hiding a sly smile. “But I’m not sure I’m ready for this evening to end.”

“Good.” I throw some bills on the counter, then slowly slide off of my stool, hoping I looked smoother than I felt. “Neither am I.” 

…………………………………………………….

We walk a few blocks towards the water, settling in the sand on my favorite beach. When I first moved to California from New York, that was my wish-list item. I wanted to live close enough that I could walk to the beach on my days off. Little did I know how unrealistic of a goal that was. Even six years into my career, I could barely afford a place within a thirty-minute drive to the ocean. Not that I get the opportunity to go very often. It feels like the only time I’ve actually stepped into sand lately is when I’m arranging a beach date for the suitor and his frontrunner of the moment. 

But at least I had found a bar close enough where I could sober up next to the water. “This is my secret spot, so I’m trusting you,” I tell Fabian, looking out over the slow crashing waves. 

He breathes in the ocean area next to me. “I love it. Reminds me of the beaches back home.”

“Uggh, so jealous. The beaches where I grew up are nothing like this.”

“Careful Riley, you’re getting dangerously close to giving away personal details. At this rate, I’m going to figure your real identity out in no time.” 

I mime locking my mouth shut and throwing away the key. ‘I wouldn’t dare. A lady needs some mystery.”

“Good to know,” he replies quietly, running his hands through the sand. “What should we do now that we’re here?”

“We could jump into the ocean.” I tease, curious to see what I can push him to do. Maybe get him to lose the shirt if I play my cards right. I’ve been dying to get a peek at the sculpted physique hidden behind his suit. 

“Won’t we get soaked?” He questions. 

“Probably. But that’s part of the fun.” He starts removing his shoes. I pull his hands back, “I’m just kidding. I’m good just to hang here for a little bit. I like the quiet.”

He glances back at me, a light blush tinting my cheeks when his eyes meet mine. “I can certainly see the appeal.” He leans back, resting his hands in the sand. His fingers are close enough to mine that I can reach them if I just stretch a little further. But I stop myself. 

“This is the best part of my trip so far.” He says quietly, speaking to himself more than me. 

“Well, from what you’ve told me, lawyers and lonely hotel rooms don’t scream exciting adventures. Maybe tomorrow will be better.”

“Maybe….” He sighs. “Thank you…for bring me out here. I needed this break from my life more than I realized.”

“Any time. If you’re looking for a break from reality, I’m your girl.”

He exhales deeply before turning to smile at me. “So anything else you want to do for your last night of freedom?” 

You. I scream out in my mind. 

I freeze in my spot. This is not me, I am not the girl who meets the mysterious stranger at the bar. In the rare opportunities where I venture out in public, I am a solitary person, using every trick in the book to keep others away. My life is surrounded by people, and most of the people who chose to sign up for a dating show are not the brightest bulbs in the bunch. When I have a moment to myself, I savor it. I spend every second of it wrapped in my own mind, usually envisioning all of the ways I can murder Bertrand without leaving any evidence. I am not the girl who goes home with the man she just met. 

But something about the way Fabian is looking at me makes me want to be. 

I lean forward, pressing my lips to his. He smiles as I pulled away. “I’ve wanted to do that since I saw you sitting at the bar”, he whispers as his hand comes up to my face, slowly stroking my cheek with the back of his fingers. 

“Same here,” I say, grinning like a schoolgirl. “I was wondering why you sat next to me when there were dozens of empty seats.”

“I was intrigued. I don’t meet many women sitting alone at bars, tipping back shots of tequila.”

“Lame. You need some new friends” I purr as I press my lips to his again. It starts out slow, but he places his hands on my neck, deepening the kiss. I let out a soft moan as his tongue parts my lips, tangling with mine. I lean back slowly, pressing my forehead against his. “I don’t usually do this.”

“Neither do I. And….to be honest, the timing couldn’t be worse.” He sighed, rubbing his hands over his eyes. “Tomorrow…”

I silence with another kiss, my hands pressing against his chest. “No tomorrow, remember? But that doesn’t mean tonight has to end just yet.”

He smirks back at me, placing his hands on my waist. “In that case….” He lifts me easily and brings me into his lap, wrapping his arms tightly around me. His lips brush along the bare skin of my neck, lighting my entire body on fire. I sigh as he continues his movements, rocking my hips against him, needing to feel every part of him. 

As his lips meet mine in another fiery kiss, a large whoop echoes out from the beach parking lot, a group of teenagers yelling out at us to get a room. 

“That’s not a bad idea,” Fabian whispers against my skin, scraping my throat with his teeth. “My hotel room is only a couple of minutes away.”

I stand up, holding out my hand for him. “Then what are we waiting for?”

……………………………………………………………..

I stand in Fabian’s hotel room, staring out at the night sky. It is the perfect view. I should know, we use this hotel all the time for guests of the show. I shake my head, trying to remind myself to save those thoughts for the morning. 

I look around, noticing the neatly laid out clothing and accessories. My tequila buzz is wearing off, and I’m starting to doubt my choice to join this stranger in his hotel room. At least most of the employees know me from my various pick-ups for the show, so they can identify my body if he murders me. I chuckle to myself at the possible headline. 

Fabian walks about behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist, leaving a trail of light kisses along my neck. “What’s so funny?” He asks as he nibbles on my earlobe.

All thoughts leave my mind as his hands start to move lower, scrunching the fabric of my shirt. I sigh deeply as I lean back against him, giving him more access to my body. The only thing I can focus on are his hands on me.

I turn around in his arms, my hands gripping his neck, bringing him down to meet me in a passionate embrace. His hands roam my back, moving lower until they are gripping the curve of my ass. I squeal as he lifts me up into his arms. My legs wrap around him on instinct before he tosses me onto the bed. I prop myself up on my elbows, watching as he removes his shirt from over his head. “Oh my god,” I whisper to myself, taking in the sight of his sculpted chest. He crawls on the bed, settling on top of me, brushing the hair away from my face.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” He leans away, searching my gaze.

In response, I pull his back to me, my lips meeting his in a fiery kiss. “I want this, I want you,” I whisper to him. 

“Good,” he growls, as he grabs the hem of my shirt, tossing it over my head. I yelp in excitement as he starts to work his way down my body, kissing and teasing all of the bare parts of my skin. “You are absolutely gorgeous.” He murmurs against my collarbone, brushing his lips along the ridge.

“Says the man who looks like he’s literally carved out of marble.” I laugh, which he quickly silences with another heated kiss. “They should make statues in your honor.”

I can feel his smirk as his lips find the curve of my breasts, exhaling as his fingers trace small circles around the already stiffened peaks. I let out a sharp gasp as his mouth descends on the sensitive skin, sucking gently as I squirm against him. His other hand continues to travel lower, slowly teasing the button at the top of my jeans. 

He looks up at me, “May I?”

“You better.” I respond, my breath already catching in my throat. He removes my remaining layers. His fingers trace along my leg, stopping as he reached the apex of my thighs. He pulls back, swiping the hair from my eyes, tucking it tightly behind my ear. Then his hand finds me. My eyes slam shut at the contact. His fingers swirling and teasing my bud in ways I have never felt before. 

“Fuck…” I moan, my nails digging into the bare skin on his shoulder. He lets out a satisfied groan as my hand moves to the front of his pants, palming his length through the fabric. As I make contact, my eyes widen. “Holy shit,” I whisper. 

He smirks as his fingers continue their tantalizing movements, silencing any further thoughts in my mind. “Please.” I finally say, a breathless plea. “I need you.”

He removes his hand, my body instantly feeling colder without his touch. I hear the distinct sound of a zipper being lowered, followed by a rip of foil. I try to prop myself up to take a better look at the gorgeous man moving closer to me, but he is already back on top of me, his hands trailing along my leg from my ankle to my thigh. He grips the skin by my hip tightly, lifting me up to meet him. 

His movements are slow at first, both of us adjusting to the sensation of our bodies fitting together. He leans down, pressing a soft kiss against my lips, as his other hand tangles in my hair, pulling my head to the side to expose my neck to him. As his movements start to quicken, his lips find the sensitive spot below my ear, his teeth lightly scratching the skin.

All eloquence of my words are gone, all thoughts are of him. Of his hands gripping my body, his quickening movements, filling me more than I ever thought possible. He leans back, his forehead resting against mine. “You okay?” He whispers as he presses his lips to mine. 

“Amazing.” I smile back. “Please don’t stop.”

“The thought never crossed my mind.” He teases. He leans back on his haunches, both hands now gripped tightly on my thighs, lifting me off of the bed. I gasp as he doubles his efforts, the pad of his thumb encircling my swollen bud. My hands fly into the sheets, gripping tightly, my knuckles white as I feel myself give myself over to the pleasure he’s providing. With a couple more thrusts, a brilliant bright white light flashes behind my eyes, all of my body igniting. He continues his movements as I embrace my high, collapsing on top of me a few moments later. 

His fingers trace the lines of my face, as my body starts to relax around him. A small smile plays on his lips as he looks at my face. I try to think of words, of something to say. But the only thing I can muster is a small “thank you.”

We both laugh as he moves away from my body, already feeling empty without his touch. I lay back against the pillows. I am dead, I think to myself. That’s the only explanation for this night.

He lays next to me, his fingers lightly brushing against my thighs. I sigh deeply. I am not a prude by any sense of the imagination, but I never knew sex could be like that. In my last relationship, it had felt like a chore, a race to see who could climax first before crawling to our opposite sides of the bed. 

But this man, the one I had promised only one night with, touched me like no one had ever before. I look over at him, and he is watching me, the same sleepy, satisfied smile reflecting back at me. 

“That was….” I finally whisper. 

“Pretty fucking incredible.” He answers. 

“Yeah, it really was.” I bite my lip before realizing that I should probably get going. Tomorrow is going to be hard enough as it is, I need some semblance of sleep to try to function as a human. 

I start to climb out of bed, when I feel a hand lightly grip my arm, pulling me back against his body. “Please, stay. I…I would like you to stay.”

Too exhausted to argue, I settle back into the bed, my head pressed against his shoulder. I drift off quickly as his fingers move along my back while he presses soft kisses in my hair. 

…………………………………………………………….

Later that night, I wake, still nestled in Fabian’s arms. I watch him snore softly in the moonlight, studying his handsome features, not sure if I really believe that this evening actually happened. I brush a strand of hair from his hair, smiling softly down at him. 

A sudden wave of nausea hits me, either from the tequila or the sickeningly sweet thoughts in my mind. These moments are not real life, I should know. I make a pretty decent living convincing our audience that they happen organically while scrambling around the background.

Big girl pants on, Connors. You have a job to do, and you can’t do it if you’re too busy thinking about your one-night stand. 

I decide right then and there I have to leave. If I see him in the morning light, I’m going to want to learn more about him, defeating the entire purpose of the previous evening. I quietly extricate myself from his embrace, gathering my clothing. After I dress, I sneak out of the room, quietly shutting the door behind me. As I get into the elevator, I pull out my phone, calling a Dryve to my location. 10 minutes away. Perfect. Just need to survive the next ten minutes without thinking about the mystery man I just left. I shook my head, rubbing my hands over my eyes. Time to move on, it’s not like I will ever see him again. 

…………………………………………………………….

After a few hours of restless sleep, I dress and head to work. I try (and fail) to conceal the dark circles under my eyes. And somehow, despite the incredibly long shower I take, I still feel like I reak of cheap tequila and anonymous sex.

As a walk into the production office, Max immediately arches his eyebrow, a telling smirk crossing his face. “Good night, I take it?” He calls out. 

“Don’t”, I say as I settle into my chair, pulling out my notes and files I need.

The day before shooting starts is the longest of the season. There’s a ridiculous amount of prep work, from reading through all of the matches’ dossiers for hidden secrets we could exploit, to preparing the rooms for arrival. Not to mention setting up the principal photography for the women’s arrival scene. I groan just thinking of the over the top entrances we have to plan.

I sit back in my chair, chewing on my pencil as I read through the first file on my girls. “Oh, god. This one wants to make her entrance with a bunch of poodles. Please tell me she’s an early exit.”

“No such luck,” Maxwell calls out from across the room, pointing to the headshot on the bulletin board. “She’s marked down as a sweetheart. Guaranteed top-four material.”

“Fuck.” I whisper, praying that the same guy will let us borrow a few puppies for the shoot. “Any wifeys in your pile?”

“Eh…” Max calls out. “Maybe a couple. I have a great candidate for a villain though.”

“Let me see!” I call out, grabbing the folder from his outstretched hand. I quickly peruse the documents. “No way- I got you beat. This girl claims she never leaves home without at least three knives.”

Maxwell shuddered next to me. “Let’s hope she left those at home. We will never get our insurance back if she stabs another contestant.”

“But imagine the headline!” I call out as I walk over to the coffee pot, pouring my third cup for the morning. “Our ratings would go through the roof!”

“That’s what I like to hear”, Bertrand calls out as he enters the room. Maxwell shakes his head at me, mouthing “you’re sick” silently. I just shrug as I lean back in my chair, sipping the glorious hot beverage, wishing I had an IV of it to stick into my arm.

“So…” He continues. “I know there has been a lot of speculation about our suitor this season. I was asked to keep his name under wraps until we were ready to start filming.”

“Why is that?” I ask. “Is he some kind of big-wig?”

“You could say that. His family owns one of the largest hotel chains in all of Europe. His older brother was set to take over the Rys Hotel Management group when their father retires later this year, but he’s too busy gallivanting with his model of the moment to take on the responsibility. So it passed onto the younger son, Liam, who will be our suitor this season. Their company is supposed to start publicly trading in the next few months, and his lawyers thought this would be a good step to remedying the family image. Make the new CEO appear to be much more stable and family-oriented than the others.”

Bertrand turned back to the bulletin board, pulling an 8 x 10 photo from his folder. “Ladies and Gentlemen, meet our suitor for Season 8 of Royal Romance- Liam Rys.” He pins the image in the center of all of the women’s glossy headshots.

I glance up from my notes, staring at the image on the board. The air quickly leaves my lungs as I stare at the familiar features of the man I had just left a few hours earlier. 

“Mother fucker.”


	2. High Hopes Don't Last Me Very Long

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A shocking realization changes the course of the season for Andi.

“Mother fucker.” 

It’s meant to be a thought in my head, but it rings clear out across the silent room. I can’t even imagine what my face looks like right now, but based on the way every single person is staring at me, it’s not good. 

One of the interns scoots closer to me. “You alright, Ms. Connors?”

No, I am not alright. Not in the fucking slightest. My mind races and everything finally starts to click into place. His comments, the hotel, the morning meeting. It’s all here. Out of all of the men in this world, the stranger I screwed last night is going to be our suitor for the season. 

I lean back in my chair, letting the cold reality wash over to me. This is what I get for trying to be spontaneous. I swear the cosmos are screwing with me. I must have been a real asshole in my past life for this kind of karma. My goddamn one-night stand is about to walk into this shit show and I am going to be the one who has to literally throw him to the wolves.

Bertrand glares at me, his beady little eyes filled with even more contempt than before. God forbid my little outburst distract the others from his shining accomplishment. But between my hangover and the shock of the picture dangling from the bulletin board, I am plum out of fucks to give. I am glued to the image. Fabian’s– or should I say Liam’s, slight smirk knocks the wind right out of me. 

“No way!” Maxwell calls out from behind me, moving to the board excitedly. “Liam’s the suitor? This is going to be awesome!”

“Wait…” I say slowly, trying to process his words. “You know him?”

“Yeah! We go way back, our dads are old squash buddies. We all grew up together.”

“Fan-fucking-tastic,” I whisper to myself, sinking further into my seat. Not only do I have to come face to face with Liam after sneaking out of his bed in the middle of the night, but he is connected to the brothers Beaumont. Family friends. I rub my hand over my forehead, the dull ache now feeling like an ice pick repeatedly stabbing my brain. This can’t be happening right now. 

Bertrand clears his throat, pulling the attention of the room back to him. “Yes, which means that this season must be one of the best we have ever done. This opens up our audience to a whole new demographic, not to mention the personal stakes. There is no room for error here.” He stares me down, his eyes narrowing. “There won’t be any second chances for anyone if they screw up.”

I barely even notice the quip directed towards me. If I took to heart every snide comment Bertrand made towards me, I would be an alcoholic living under the freeway a long time ago. Besides, I have much bigger problems at this moment. There is no way that I can avoid seeing Liam. I glance at the clock on the wall. He’s going to walk into the main entrance at any moment. The suitor is always the first to arrive on set and we, or should I say I, have to prep them for filming. Explain our expectations, field any lingering questions or concerns about what will happen when the cameras start rolling. It’s a long, but necessary conversation in order to ensure a smooth season. No one likes a shy suitor, least of all me. It makes my job that much harder when they aren’t willing to play up the romance for the sake of appearances. 

Suddenly, a thought pops into my mind. 

“If you’re old friends, Max, you should be his producer.” I smile, pleased with myself at the devious plan. “I mean, that would probably give you an edge to help him this season.”

Maxwell shrugs, “Works for me. It’s been a few years since I got to work with the suitor.”

“There’s a reason for that.” Bertrand snaps. “Or do I have to remind you what happened last time you were responsible for ensuring our suitor’s cooperation?”

“That was three seasons ago!” Maxwell rubs the back of his head sheepishly, speaking quietly to himself as he heads to the back of his room. ”You lose one guy, and you can never live it down…”

Bertrand claps his hands together, turning to face me. “So that settles that. Andi, Liam is your responsibility.”

“But—” I start to protest. 

He holds his hands up to silence me. “That’s final. I expect you to make sure that he is completely satisfied while he is here.”

As soon as the word satisfied leaves his mouth, all I can think of is the small smile Liam gave me as he cradled me in his arms after we both came down from our highs, his fingers tracing the path along my jaw. An unfamiliar knot forms in my stomach at the memory, already feeling like a lifetime ago. I shake my head, reminding myself why I am here. Get shit done, Connors. I need to get out of my head. I wonder if I still have that bottle of vodka stashed somewhere in the office. No, no more alcohol. That’s how you got yourself into this mess in the first place. 

Bertrand continues, completely oblivious to my zone out. “Besides, Maxwell is too close to the situation, he will not be able to push Liam to get the results we need. He may be a family acquaintance, but our first priority is making this an incredible show. And that means he needs you, Andi.”

My face stares blankly back to him, all words failing me. After a tense staredown, I finally muster a small “Are you sure it should be me?”

He lets out an aggravated groan. “Despite your past indiscretions, I know you have what it takes to make sure we get the shots we need. You get the best sound bites, you know what to look for. You will get this done or we will have to evaluate your role for the next season.” He arches his eyebrow. “Am I making myself clear?”

“Crystal,” I reply through gritted teeth. Fucking dick. Where’s a falling anvil when you need one?

Bertrand plasters on a fake smile, clasping his hands together. “Perfect.” He glances down at his phone, “And he’s just arrived. Why don’t we go make him feel welcome?”

No, no, no, no, no, my mind screams. I am so not fucking ready. For someone who makes a living causing confrontations to happen on-screen, I avoid them like the plague in real life. I am much better at the subtle digs and passive-aggressive comments. Maxwell likes to tell me snark is my love language. But actually confronting my own problems head-on, no fucking thank you. My heart starts to race as I try to wrack my mind for any plausible excuse to get out of this meeting. “I should probably double-check the arrivals for the girls, make sure that they are all set at the hotel for pick up tomorrow.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Maxwell calls out from his usual corner. “I got it covered.” He shoots me a wink, trying to show how much of a team player he is being. Great, just great. The one time Maxwell tries to actually be helpful at work, and he burns me in the process. 

“Nice to see you take initiative for once.” Bertrand scoffs, leading me into the main foyer. I debate dragging my feet, wrapping my arms around one of the ridiculous pillars and refusing to let go. The thirty yards to the main entrance feel like I’m walking to the gallows, and in reality, I just might be. I slept with the suitor, a cardinal sin in the world of reality television. Producers and contestants are never allowed to mingle, a clear breach of all of our morally ambiguous ethics. It’s one of the only lines we never cross, mostly because no one wants to watch a show where the love story occurs behind the scenes. 

As we turn the corner, I immediately spot Liam, standing there in a much more casual ensemble than the previous evening. I can’t help but remember the taut muscles that are just hinted at beneath his deep v-neck shirt. I bite my lip slightly as he turns around to point to something on the wall, laughing to the man next to him. 

Bertrand clears his throat in front of me, getting their attention. Luckily, I am small enough to be mostly hidden behind his broad shoulders. Maybe if I try hard enough, I can fade into the background altogether. They both turn around, Liam smiling down at him, while the other man gives him a slight nod. It throws me for a moment. I have never seen someone look actually happy to see Bertrand. Red flag, major red flag. Maybe he’s a much bigger asshole than I thought. My bullshit reader must have been clouded with the shots. 

“Liam, it’s good to see you,” Bertrand says as he steps forward, extending his hand. “Drake”, he adds briefly to the other man.

“Beaumont.” The man he called Drake echoes back, his demeanor flat. I quickly glance over in his direction. In many ways, he is the opposite of Liam, his dark, rugged features perfectly contrasted against Liam’s clean-cut persona. He’s giving Bertrand a look I know far too well. Clearly, he knows him well. I smile to myself, pleased that I’m not the only one who sees through his mega-producer facade. 

Liam steps forward, shaking his hand. As they start to speak, Bertrand shifts to showcase some of the palace’s features. Luckily I’m too paralyzed with fear at the moment to listen to the bullshit he’s trying to spoon-feed him.

As he points out the staircase where the women will descend from tomorrow, Bertrand moves just enough for Liam to catch my eye. His mouth immediately opens in recognition. 

“Riley?” He calls out, quickly moving past Bertrand. He searches my eyes, looking down at me in total disbelief. I try to subtly shake my head, all too well aware of the complete panic written across my face. He stops a few inches away from me, his face contorted in confusion. 

“Oh, where are my manners?” Bertrand responds, pushing me towards him. I feel like a small child being forced to meet a distant relative who smells like mothballs. My feet attempt to dig into the ground, cursing the smooth marble that makes it impossible. “This is Andi Connors, one of our producers on the show. She’s one of the best and brightest in the business.”

I let out a small scoff, as Bertrand sends a don’t test me look in my direction. “That’s me.” I hold out my hand to meet his. “I’m Andi.”

He bites back a small smile, nodding in silent understanding. “Nice to meet you, Andi. I’m Liam.” A slight smirk crossing his face. “Are you sure we haven’t met before? Something about you seems familiar.”

My eyes narrow slightly back at him. “I must just have one of those faces.” I force out through a tight smile, trying to quell the bile rising in my throat. 

“Perfect.” Bertrand says, “Now that you two are acquainted, we can give you the grand tour.”

He leads Liam and Drake down the hallway, the latter looking back at me with a questioning look on his face. I wonder if Liam told him about last night, about the girl who picked him up at the bar and snuck out before sunrise. I sigh deeply. I am never going to survive the next few weeks unscathed. 

……………………………………………………………………

I linger behind the group as Bertrand fumbles through the tour, completely oblivious to any of the designated spaces on set. To be honest, this is the longest I’ve seen him out of his office…ever. He aimlessly meanders through the halls, trying (and failing) at finding all of the important places to know. As he opens various doors, Liam looks back at me, the same secret smile lingering on his perfect lips. But I refuse to meet his gaze, unsure of what will happen if I do. Currently, it’s a toss-up between smiling like a love-struck moron and getting violently ill. There is no in-between. 

After about 10 minutes of fumbling around the set, Bertrand leads Liam to his suite. “And as you are aware, Drake, we have arranged for you to have a room on the other end of the palace.”

“Seriously, Beaumont? The palace?” Drake lets out a small, unimpressed scoff. I bite back an approving smirk. This man is my kind of people. Sarcastic and not falling for any of Bertrand’s noise. 

“Yes…well, we have done extensive renovations over the past few years to make this the ideal backdrop for our fairytale romances.” He pats Liam on the back. “You will see what I mean soon enough.”

Bleech, I scream in my mind. I glance over at Liam, the same unsure look crossing his face that I got a glimpse of last night. I can’t help but worry for him. He has no idea what he signed up for, especially if he’s trying to rehab his family’s image. I shake my head, snapping myself out of that train of thought. Good ratings, good ratings, good ratings, I repeat to myself, every producer’s mantra. I need to get him to snap out of this funk, fast. Sulky suitors are not sexy, primetime material.

Bertrand opens the door, showcasing the suitor’s master suite. Liam and Drake both enter, glancing over the elaborate decor. When the designer came in a few seasons again, they tried to model the room in a style they called “Versailles chic.” You can only imagine the amount of tacky crap that entails. Nearly every item in the room is painted the same obnoxious shade of gold, echoing the “royal” theme of the entire palace. 

I stand awkwardly by the door, unsure if I should enter. The suitor’s quarters are usually pretty off-limits for us, save for emergency meetings and pep-talks. 

“We’re going to give you some time to settle in. We will start the principal photography for your entrance this afternoon. Then tomorrow the women will arrive.” Bertrand calls out from the hallway, only his head peeking in.

“Ah, yes. My potential future brides.” He says begrudgingly, his expression falling slightly. “Do I get any information about them before we are introduced?”

I clear my throat, finally allowing my nerves to fade enough to find my voice. “Not exactly. We want to capture your first impressions on camera. Makes it feel more real for the viewers at home.” I say matter of factly. If I’m stuck being his producer, I am going to be the best and most professional one the world has ever seen. Past mind-blowing sex be damned. 

Bertrand gives me a slight push into the room, as he backs away. “I must be going, there are some last-minute details I need to attend to.” 

“Oh, if that’s the case—” I start to say before he shakes his head. 

“No need, Maxwell and I have it covered. Please make sure Liam gets settled in.” He turns to the men, the same fake smile plastered on his face. “If there is anything you need, please let Andi know. She will make everything is to your pleasure.” 

I flinch at his wording. If I didn’t know any better, I swear he was fucking with me. 

“My pleasure, you say?” Liam smirks in my direction. “That is good to know.”

I stare daggers back at him. Smug ass motherfucker. I bite my tongue so hard, I swear I taste blood. “Whatever you need,” I reply, my words sweet, but my face neutral. I will not give him the satisfaction of seeing me rattled. 

Bertrand motions down the hall, offering to show Drake to his room. He shoots Liam an annoyed look over his shoulder, clearly not thrilled with his present company. As the door shuts behind them, we both stand there for a few moments, the air thick with awkward tension between us. Liam clears his throat, taking a small step towards me. As he get closer, he gives me a knowing smile, the kind reserved for someone who has seen every part of you. 

“Stop it.” I sharply whisper to him, shooting him a withering look.

“Stop what?” He smirks. He clearly knows damn well what I mean. 

“Stop looking at me like you’ve seen me naked.” I quip back. 

“Well, it’s a hard image to get out of my mind. And to be honest, not one I would like to forget.” His fingers lightly brush mine. I sigh at the contact, wanting to give in to touch more than anything. I let his fingers tangle with mine, his thumb brushing the back of my hand. “I didn’t think I’d ever see you again.” His eyebrow raised. “Especially after I woke up to find you gone this morning. I didn’t think you were the type to sneak out in the middle of the night.”

“I didn’t sneak,” I say sharply back to him, dropping his hand and backing away. “I just...I needed to leave, and after everything that has happened today, thank fucking God I did.”

“Andi, I….” He replies, running his hand through his hair. “Last night….”

“No,” I say curtly. “Last night never happened, and it can’t happen again. The Riley who left your bed last night is gone, and now you’re stuck with Andi, your producer. Who promises to make your life a living hell if you fuck things up for her.”

He gives me a teasing smile. “I thought Bertrand said you were supposed to be nice to me.”

“Bertrand says a lot of things. Most of it coming straight out of his ass.” I clap my hand over my mouth, shaking my head. “I shouldn’t have said that. I forgot you were friends.”

“Friends is a strong term. We have met a few times in passing at family functions. I know Maxwell much better.” 

“Not helping.” I sit back in one of the armchairs, rubbing my hands over my eyes. I slowly open my notebook, glancing over my hastily scribbled notes. “So how are you feeling about all of this?”

Liam arches his eyebrow at me as he sits down in the opposing chair. “About seeing you again or about feeling like I’m being auctioned off like a prized ham?”

I shoot him a pointed look. “The second one.”

He leans back, studying my gaze. Something about the way he looks at me melts me right to my core. I can feel my body being drawn to him, echoes of the words he whispered to me last night lingering in the stagnant space between us. I close my eyes for a moment, willing the memories to quickly fade, but that doesn’t help.

He exhales deeply in thought. “I’m not sure. I know why I’m doing this, but everything about the process feels…..” He rubs his hand over his mouth at a loss for the right words. 

“Fake,” I answer for him. 

“Exactly.” He meets my eyes before clearing his throat, turning his gaze to the open balcony. 

“That’s because it is,” I answer, my eyes trained on the notes in front of me. “Everything about this place is manufactured to make people believe in unrealistic fairytales. But those moments are very rarely real.”

“I don’t know about that.” He says quietly. “I’ve had a recent experience that tells me otherwise.”

I shoot him a withering stare as he smiles back at me. “Well, the rules are different here. If you do have a moment like that, the cameras better be on you. Nothing behind the scenes that I can’t use for a good sound bite. Also, just so you know, the minute you walk out of this room, there are cameras covering your every move. So no comments about seeing me naked, no charming little smiles, and no flirting with me. Ever.”

“So you do think I’m charming?” He asks, moving closer to me. 

“That what you’re taking away from this conversation?” I slam my notebook closed and make my way to the door. “Save it for your dates, Prince Charming.”

……………………………………………………………………………

I rush back into the production office, firmly shutting the door behind me. I lean against it, trying to steady my shaking breath. Part of me hoped that I made Liam up, or at least exaggerated him in my mind. But standing in front of him, everything about him was intoxicating. His smile, his calm confidence, the same familiar scent that I could still smell on my clothes this morning. Every part of me wanted him again. 

I rub my hands over my eyes, letting out a long groan. Suddenly, the door bursts open, sending me flying into one of the tables. Maxwell hastily enters, holding a large stack of documents. He spots me sprawled out across the desk, giving me a confused look. “What are you doing, Andi?”

“Just adding a cherry onto the shit sundae that is today,” I whisper to myself, dusting off my pants. “What were you and Bertrand working on?”

“Eh, he has some ideas that he wants to incorporate into the season. He’s trying to bring in some new advertisers.”

“Gotcha.” I peek over at the file on top of the stack. “Anything I should know? Let maybe about this random friend who showed up with our suitor? What the fuck is that about?”

Maxwell stood next to me, shrugging as he checked the various monitors. “No clue. I guess he’s trying to make Liam feel more comfortable.”

“Since when is that high on his priority list?” And what is the deal with Drake anyway? Why is he so….” I pause, trying to wrack my mind for the right word.

“Hot?” Maxwell says, wiggling his eyebrows at me.

“Jaded,” I answered. “Plus you know damn well that the lumberjack thing isn’t my kink.”

“Maybe you should broaden your horizons.” He elbows my side. “When was the last time you got out there anyway?”

Oh, a lot more recently than you realize, I think to myself. On instinct, my eyes dash to the camera outside of Liam’s room, curious to what’s going on behind the closed door. 

“But Drake…..he’s never really fit in with Liam’s crowd. They became friends because his dad used to work for Papa Rys. Some kind of security I think.” Maxwell shrugged, moving back over to the corkboard, adding notes beneath some of the contestants' pictures. “He’s always had a bit of a guard up with everyone. Don’t take it personally.”

“Wasn’t planning on it. I just don’t understand why he’s here. Is he like some sort of emotional support person?” I glare at Maxwell, a familiar feeling making my blood pressure spike. “I swear…if this is another bullshit cult leader, faux spiritual advisor thing, I will lose my shit on everyone.”

“No, no. Nothing like that. It’s like a where you-go, I-go kind of thing. Band of brothers, yadda yadda.”

I sit back in my chair, propping my feet up on the table. I grab my cup of coffee, flinching when I realize that it’s ice cold now. “Whatever. I honestly don’t care who Liam brings as long as he makes for good tv. I don’t need this guy whispering things in his ear, making my life more difficult.”

As Maxwell goes to retort, the door opens again, this time Bertrand entering with a gaggle of fresh interns. He shoos them away as he looks at the two of us a disapproving look on his face. “If you’re sitting here, I can only assume that Liam is comfortably set up in the master suite.”

“He was when I left him,” I answer, pointing the camera outside of his room. “I told him he had a few hours before we need our show pony ready to go.”

Bertrand pinches the bridge of his nose. “I swear, Andi if you make this season difficult….”

“Relax, I am just kidding. Yes, he is settling in nicely. He had a few questions about the process, but I think I told him what he wanted to hear.” A small knot of guilt forms in my stomach, talking about Liam like any other suitor. But this is what you have to do, I remind myself. I just finished telling him to forget last night, now I have to make myself do the same. His picture catches my eye again. No matter how hard it is. 

A sudden change in Bertrand’s tone brings my focus back to him. 

“Speaking of the process- I was contemplating changing the women’s entrances. That new show…the one with the blind something or other, is making a lot of waves in our demographics. So I was thinking about having the contestants meet Liam at a masquerade ball instead. Really play up the royalty theme this year. And then we can claim that Liam has started forming meaningful connections with the contestants before he sees the beauty underneath.”

“It’s not necessarily a bad idea,” I respond, shrugging my shoulders at Max. “But I think we should shelve it for next seas—.”

“No,” Bertrand says, stopping my train of thought. “I want to do this. Tomorrow. Let the cameramen start setting up the shots. And talk to wardrobe about having masks made up for each of the women.”

“Hold on, we are supposed to start filming….” I look down at my watch, silently calculating the rapidly dwindling minutes. “Less than 17 hours. We will never be able to pull it off in time.”

“Andi…” He says, his words dripping with disdain as he pats my shoulder like a petulant child. I need another shower. “You need to have more faith in yourself. I know if you put your mind to it, you can get this done, just like I’m imagining it.”

I want to throw up, I want to scream, I really want to break every one his lingering fingers. But I don’t. Instead, I offer up my most convincing smile. “We’ll get it done.”

“I knew there was a reason we kept you here.” Bertrand smiles, although it doesn’t come close to reaching his eyes. “You better get to work.”


	3. I've Been Upside Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Andi prepares for the first day of filming, trying to keep her feelings under wraps.

“You have work to do,” Bertrand says as he finally backs away from me, leaving the room without another word. I stare at Maxwell, who’s sporting the same incredulous look that I am. 

“What the actual fuck just happened?” I ask him, my head spinning in a million directions. 

“Bertrand just royally fucked us.” He sighs, dropping his head down to the table in front of him in a sudden movement. He pops back up just as quickly, swatting his hands in the air. “God, awful mental image.”

I’m too preoccupied to even listen to Maxwell at this moment. I look down at my daily checklist, everything that I had previously crossed off needing to be re-examined. Fuck, fuckity, fuck, fuck, fuck. I think of a dozen different ways that I can destroy Bertrand and get away with it. 

Masks are the first thing I write on the note pad, each girl is going to need one. I am already dreading walking down to wardrobe and giving them the news. The dresses have been picked out for weeks, and now we’re going to have to scramble to find matching masks? They are going to flip out. I mentally remind myself to stay more than an arm’s length away. Way too many sharp, pointy objects in that department that can cause grievous harm to my body. I still have a slight scar on my arm from the scissors that went flying after Bertrand changed the location of the finale at the last minute two years ago. I smile deviously, sounds like a job for Maxwell. 

A masquerade. What a fucking joke, I think to myself. 

The next few hours pass by in a blur, and before I know it, the clock is ticking past three am. Maxwell left hours ago, his head throbbing from the migraine that had developed after giving wardrobe the bad news. I walk over to the whiteboard, checking over all of the details for the shoot tomorrow. Somehow, almost by magic, we seem to be in a good spot. I let out a large yawn, telling myself I should go home. But I can’t. The quiet, buzzing energy that only exists the night before filming begins sustains me. The calm before the inevitable shit show begins. 

This is my moment, something that even Bertrand can’t ruin for me. I’ve had the same routine for years, the mental list I run through in my mind. I look over the girls’ photos one last time, making sure each one is clearly marked with their labels. I’m in a good spot, I have a solid villain, and at least two wifeys now. Two potential emotional disasters that have meltdown written all over them. I glance over at the headshot of Liam, frowning slightly to myself. Something about plotting this season feels wrong, but it’s what I have to do. At least this season I won’t have to deal with the same level of scumbag as years past. I smirk to myself, even if he’s a cocky bastard. 

…………………………………………………………………………

I finally leave the production office, balancing my jumbo cup of coffee in one hand and my notes in the other. I walk up to the contestants’ rooms, double checking each of the labels and that they are ready for occupancy. Finally, after confirming that the women have the correct rooms, roommates chosen for maximum drama potential, I move down the staircase to make sure everything else is ready for the entrances tomorrow.

When I first came to work on the Royal Romance, part of me wanted to believe in the fairytale, that true love could really be found with the entire nation scrutinizing your every move. The first night was always my favorite when I watched on tv, the magical moment the first time the suitor laid eyes on the beautiful women coming to compete for his hand took my breath away. 

Then I was handed an earpiece and heard the true thoughts of everyone coordinating the so-called “magical moment”. In reality, it was a cluster fuck of the most twisted minds in the industry coming together to manipulate the audience’s emotions. All driven by the so-called “meat-puppet” standing in front of the room, bringing the fantasy together. 

I walk outside, breathing in the crisp late-night air, the adrenaline that has been fueling me starting to wear off. I sigh as I look down at my empty coffee cup, needing to track down more caffeine before I completely crash. 

I turn to re-enter the palace when something catches my eye. A figure sitting at the edge of the pool, their feet swaying in the water. I look down at my phone, realizing that it’s past 4 am already. Fuck, too late to go home now. 

My curiosity gets the better of me as I move closer to the person, stopping short when I start to recognize the familiar form. My heart skips a beat when I realize that it’s Liam sitting at the edge, absent-mindedly running his hands in the heated water. 

I know I should walk away, turn right back around, and continue with my tasks. Maybe stake out a spot for a well-deserved nap. But seeing him, I can’t help but move closer until I am sitting down next to him, internally screaming at myself to get a grip. He turns and smiles slightly at me as I sit, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. 

“Andi.” He says quietly, turning back to the water. “I’m surprised you’re still here.”

“Eh, you shouldn’t be,” I reply as I start to remove my shoes, dipping my toes in the water. “I have issues relaxing and relinquishing control to others, or at least that’s what my mother likes to tell me.” I sigh deeply as I relax for the first time today. “I don’t see much of home when we’re filming.”

Liam nods along quietly, his eyes still glued in front of him. I peer over at him, “What are you doing up?”

“Can’t sleep. I keep wondering…why am I doing this?” He asked quietly. “How the hell did I end up here, Andi?”

I lean back, resting my weight on the palms of my hands. “Do you want the truth or the company line?”

Liam glances towards me, the corner of his mouth turned up into the same familiar smirk. “I’m not asking Bertrand, I’m asking you.” 

I let out a small breath, carefully evaluating my next words. I know what I want to say, that he should run like hell before the madness arrives, but instead I say, “I can’t answer that for you. I can tell you what you might get out of being here, but your reasons for signing that dotted line, only you know for sure.”

He rubs his hands over his eyes, the dark circles underneath them becoming more apparent. At least I’m not the only exhausted one. 

“My lawyer…Rashaad, he convinced me that this would be a good PR move. That I could help re-establish my family brand as more than philanderers and constant fixtures on the Saint Tropez yacht scene.” He rubs the bridge of his nose with his forefinger and thumb. “I need to repair the damage my family has done, otherwise, our company is doomed. I can’t…I can’t let my family’s legacy die with me.” 

“Then that’s what you hold on to,” I respond. “No matter what happens tomorrow, just remind yourself that there is a light at the end of the tunnel. You get to walk away from this cluster fuck soon enough, hopefully with some good press to keep your company going.”

“And what about you, Andi?” He turns, searching my gaze. “Why are you here?”

“Besides a deep masochistic streak?” I let out a small laugh. “Sorry there Dr. Phil, we’re focusing on your issues, not mine tonight,” I say with a smirk. But when his deep, dark blue eyes meet mine, I instantly start to melt, wanting to show him all of the layers that I keep hidden inside of myself. 

As he smiles down at me, his finger lightly meets mine, linking our pinkies together. Just the small action causes my heart to beat wildly in my chest. I quickly stand up, grabbing my shoes as I hurry back inside the set, mumbling as I struggle with the door. “So just remember- you’re doing this because it’s a smart PR move. You’ll get some positive press. And who knows”, I call out over my shoulder. “Maybe you’ll meet the woman of your dreams tomorrow.”

“I highly doubt that.” I hear him say as the door slides closed behind me.

………………………………………………………………………………….

“Andi….oh sweet Andi……” a voice sings out from the darkness. I tightened my jacket over my head, refusing the crack open my eyes. 

“Go away before I ram my fist down your throat,” I grumble. I don’t even want to know what time it is. By the time I finally shut my eyes, the sun was almost fully up. My entire body ached with exhaustion, no amount of coffee would be able to fix this problem. I’m starting to understand why so many people in this industry turn to drugs. I could use the boost, to be honest. Not to mention the mind-alteration sounds like a pretty good side effect. The voice calls out again, stirring me from my much-needed slumber. 

“But your life would be so lonely without me.” Maxwell coos, slowly lifting the jacket off of my face. “There’s the face we all know and love. Although the smell leaves a little bit to be desired.”

I pull the jacket the rest of the way down, exposing myself to the cold reality of the day. I squint my eyes, taking a minute to realize where I am. Fuck, I must have really crashed, I’m still in the editing bay. I remember why I was there, unable to sleep until I knew my conversation with Liam hadn’t been caught on tape. I don’t know what I was thinking, letting myself get sucked into it. I need to get it together, this bleeding heart shit isn’t going to fly.

“What do you want, Maxwell?” I asked, trying to take a subtle sniff of my clothes. It’s….not great, he’s not wrong there. Call it added incentive to stay as far away from Liam as possible. 

“So Tariq is in the production office looking for you…apparently someone tried to switch out his shoes for a different brand, and he’s having a colossal meltdown,” Maxwell says, taking a large step away from me. As he should. He knows nothing makes my blood boil more than the douche nugget we call a “host”, and his epic wardrobe rants.

If you were to look up pompous prick in the dictionary, Tariq’s face would be staring back at you. For someone who has little to do with the actual success of our show, he seems to think that his insight is valuable and needed. Not to mention that his rider is longer than most of the actors in Hollywood, including that he would only wear Sartorini classic leather shoes, hand-stitched and flown in from Italy. One pair could pay my rent for a month. I stand up, checking my breath in my hand….also not good. 

“Please tell me you have some mouth wash, toothpaste, something….” I plead with Maxwell, pulling my hair into a sloppy bun. 

He digs through his pockets, pulling out a creased stick of gum. “I think it’s winter-mint flavored?” He says as he passes it to me. 

Uggh. I try to ignore the piece of lint stuck to the liner as I pop it into my mouth, praying that it's enough to cover up my morning breath. I stand fully up, shaking the sleep out of my body, and head over to the production office, hearing Tariq’s voice shouting before I even open the door. 

“I cannot believe I have to explain myself again to you imbeciles! Why is so hard to understand! I am Royal Romance, it is my face that people look for every season! And you want me to wear second rate, discount brand shoes? Where the fuck is Andi?”

I open the door at the mention of my name, rolling my eyes to Maxwell before entering the fray. A pair of terrified eyes meet mine, a poor intern who has no idea what they signed up for. I walk over to Tariq, stepping between him and the cowering girl. “Hi, I’m here. What’s the issue?”

He shoves a pair of black leather shoes in my hands, throwing his up in disgust. “What the fuck are these, Andi?”

“They are shoes….black….leather….I’m failing to see the issue here.” I sigh as I look them over. 

“The issue is that they are not the shoes I requested.” He takes a step back, slowly appraising my outfit. “Not that you would understand fashion, but they are part of my signature look. People know what kind of shoes I wear.”

“Right….” I say, trying to resist the urge to knee him in the testicles. “I’m sure it was a mix up in wardrobe. Easy fix.” I take the shoes and exit the room, there’s way too much shit on my to-do list to get into a debate about fucking shoes. 

……………………………………………………………………….

By the time the limos start to arrive, I am completely depleted. I run my fingers through my hair, grateful that I haven’t had a chance to look in a mirror yet today. I find three different pens sticking out the top of my bun, placed there during various parts of the day. I exhale slowly, nothing I can do about it now. 

I take a large sip of my coffee and head out the front entrance, checking on each of the limos one by one. I quickly pop my head into the limo with Maxwell’s girls, not really caring too much about the impression that they make. I do my obligatory hype-up, showing them Liam’s picture and giving them the bare-bones information I can provide. They gasp and clap their hands like the women always do, convinced that they’re going to meet their soulmate in mere minutes. Gag me. 

I pay special attention to the last limo, the one ushering my contestants. This time I go inside, settling in the seat next to two impeccably dressed women. I have to give the wardrobe department props, the masks turned out amazing in such a short time frame. 

“Hello, ladies! I know I’ve spoken to most of you a few times on the phone, but I’m Andi and I will be your producer this season. I hope you’re all ready to make it the best one yet!” I purposefully raise my voice a few octaves, trying to echo the excitement in the air. It honestly makes my teeth hurt, but it works. Most of the women are beaming back at me, ready to meet the modern-day Prince. 

One woman, however, scoffs in the corner. “Seriously? You expect us to just fall at this man’s feet the minute we walk in the door?”

I laugh to myself, already happy that I put my money behind this woman to be the villain of the season. “You don’t have to fall at his feet Olivia, but you should be excited. Liam’s a great guy, and I have a feeling his future fiancee is sitting in this car with me….”

The other women squeal in delight, while a sly smile crosses Olivia’s face, seemingly content with my response. I continue, “So remember, this is your chance to make a bold first impression. With the masks on, you want to ensure that Liam remembers your name at the end of the night.” I start to exit the car, throwing them one last fake smile before the madness begins. “Best of luck ladies!”

I return to the foyer, spotting Liam talking to Tariq. I momentarily lose my train of thought when I see him in the perfectly tailored suit. The deep, navy color brings out the hidden colors in his eyes, making my knees weak. He meets my gaze and gives me a small wink. I shake my head, cocky fucking bastard. 

I move off to the side, trying to blend in with the background as the cameras get ready to start filming. I let out a large groan when I see my usual spot is occupied, Drake curiously watching the crew move around him. 

“Came to watch the magic unfold?” I asked him as I move to his side, sitting down low so the camera can’t catch me. I motion for him to do the same. He gives me an annoyed look, but complies anyway, squatting down in the empty place beside me. 

“This is a fucking circus.” He mumbles under his breath. 

“And I’m the goddamn ringleader, so play nice and be quiet.” I snap at him, trying to hear the directions coming through my earpiece. 

“Andi!” Bertrand barks in my ear. “Get over there! Liam looks like some just murdered his puppy. Get him to smile for God’s sake.”

I close my eyes, counting to five before I answer. Drake laughs behind me. “Glad to know Beaumont hasn’t changed much.”

I glare at him before answering my walkie. “I’m on it.”

I walk over to Liam, pulling him away from Tariq and his aimless ramblings. “Thank you for saving me.” He chuckles. “Is he always like that? He just spent the last twenty minutes discussing the merits of his newest colonic.”

I shake my head, trying to dispel the mental image forming. “Never say those words to me again.” I turn and face him, trying to keep myself composed. But the small smirk crossing his lips is making it a lot harder than it should be. “You need to step it up,” I say to him, watching his expression fall slightly. “I know Tariq is the human equivalent of a tapeworm, but when the women arrive, I need you to be your charming self.”

“There you go again with the compliments, Andi. I’m going to get a big head if you keep it up.” Liam says teasingly.

“I’m not joking,” I reply, my tone deadly serious. “I need you at your best right now. No pouting, no long wistful sighs. Time to put your big boy pants on and remember these women may look sweet, but they will eat you alive if you’re not ready.”

He takes a step away from me, facing the wall while running his hands through his hair. I lean my head back, feeling guilty for my harshness. “Liam….” I start to say quietly, stepping closer to him. My hand reaches out to touch his shoulder when my earpiece squawks again.

“Yeesh, are you trying to scare him away? You better hope he’s not a flight risk.” Maxwell’s voice rings out. I look up, cursing at myself for forgetting that the cameras have started filming. Everyone is watching our conversation in the production office, and I almost just let myself slip. Fucking hell. I lower my gaze, placing my producer mask back on. I hate to admit it, but I don’t trust myself around Liam. With just one smile, all I could think of was pushing him into the nearest utility closet and ripping off his clothes with my teeth. Oh god, who am I becoming? Treat him like any other suitor, I remind myself. 

“Remember why you’re here,” I say, all warmth gone from my voice. “You’re supposed to be meeting your future wife tonight. She’s going to be walking through those doors in just a few minutes.”

Liam turns back towards me, searching my gaze. “And if she’s not?”

“Then you need to act like she is,” I retort. “We both need this to work. And don’t forget- you signed a contract. If you back out now, we own your ass.” With the last comment, I turn on my heel and head back to my spot on the floor. But as I walk away I can feel Liam staring back at me. 

Drake leans in as I look over my notes. “You really had to throw in that last part?”

“He needs to remember where he is.” I let out the deep breath I was holding in. “Just because they’re old family friends, doesn’t mean the Beaumonts won’t sue him for breach of contract. They would leave him penniless just out of spite.”

He gives me an appraising look. “Most people think the Beaumonts have a sparkling clean reputation.”

“Yeah, well, I’ve worked with Bertrand for years. That’s enough time to scrape through the layer of bullshit he displays for everyone.”

Drake nods his head, looking slightly impressed by my response. I turn to face him, suddenly very curious about his motivations for tagging along with Liam. He didn’t seem like the kind of guy to be impressed by the glitz and glam of reality television, but I had been wrong before. When I first started working here, I had a crush on Bertrand. Now the thought makes me want to gargle bleach. 

The music starts to swell around us as Bertrand continues to shout directions to the crew. “Showtime people!” He calls out. “Let’s make this the best season yet. True love here we come!” My eyes roll so hard I think I might have injured myself at the sickly sweet comment. 

The cameras start to pivot around me as Tariq begins his opening lines. “Tonight begins another journey towards finding true love on the Royal Romance. Our newest suitor Liam, is here with me, ready to find his perfect queen. Tell me, Liam, are you feeling nervous?”

Liam smiles brightly back at Tariq. “Not nervous exactly, more excited at the possibility of meeting my match.” His eyes briefly meet mine. “After all, who doesn’t want to find someone to share their heart with?”

I nod along, he’s playing the part perfectly. I tell myself that he only looked in my direction because he was doing what I asked, no other reason than that. 

We watch as the first woman enters the house, gracefully curtseying as she approaches. I smile to myself as she elegantly introduces herself to Liam, letting him kiss the back of her hand. She greets him in fluent french, promising to get to know each other better throughout the night. Liam smiles brightly back at her, responding back in perfect french. I smile happily, atta boy. He’s playing the part perfectly. I try to ignore the nagging pit in my stomach as he watches her walk away. 

Drake groans beside me, shifting in his seat uncomfortably. I watch his expression as the next few women enter, shaking his head at the over-the-top attention grabbers. 

I lean over toward him. “You don’t have to stay, you know. It’s going to be a long fucking night. This is just the beginning of all the madness.”

He looks like he’s debating, but shakes his head no. “I told Liam I’d help him out, so I’m staying.” His eyes widen as another woman enters, her arms full with three poodles. He shook his head, cursing under his breath. 

“What about you?” I say teasingly. “Any of these women your type? Could make this a joint season if you’re interested.”

Drake scoffed. “No fucking way. I’m good.” 

“You sure? I can get you a copy of the kill list if you want it. You might have to fight off Maxwell and Tariq but there are lots of options.”

“Kill list?”

“List of girls that are going to be axed tonight,” I say nonchalantly, my eyes dashing back towards the newest woman entering. His eyebrow arches back at me in confusion. I let out a small laugh, forgetting that normal people aren’t aware of the dark underbelly of our industry. These things used to shock me too, but my skin has grown thick and my morals have all but evaporated. 

Drake runs his hands through his hair “How do you know who’s leaving tonight? I thought it was Liam’s call.”

I pout my lips slightly, “Aww…so naive. Learn from me, young grasshopper. Liam may get a say in the women who make it to the end, and definitely who he proposes to. But tonight, this is all about eliminating the dead weight. The women who look good on camera, but are completely uninteresting.” I point to the woman strutting across that set. “For example….you see this girl coming towards us. The one with the over-inflated lips and ego to match? She’s the equivalent of a human barbie doll. Pretty on the outside, but no substance underneath. No one wants to watch her try to impress Liam with the number of injectables her inheritance can buy her.”

Drake turned, giving me a disapproving look. “And you know that before they even meet?”

“Honey, I knew that before she got on the plane.” I shake my head. “It’s nothing personal, I’m sure in the real world she’s a….lovely person. But here, I need people who are going to make you want to watch the show. And trust me, she ain’t it.”

He leans back against the wall. “Seems kinda fucked up to me.”

“Oh, it is extremely fucked up,” I reply, shrugging my shoulders. “But that’s the world we’re in. You want simple, download a dating app.”

“Or maybe pick someone up at a bar over a bunch of tequila shots?” He fires back quietly. My blood runs cold. Of course, Liam told him. I stand up, grabbing his arm and dragging him into the supply closet. Out of all the scenarios where I wanted to end up in this closet, this was not one of them. 

“Easy there, Connors. I was just messing with you.” Drake laughs, throwing his hands up in surrender. 

I whip around to face him, eyes ablaze in anger. I make my voice terrifyingly low, the tone I usually reserve for people who steal my parking spot or fuck up my food orders. “I don’t know what the fuck Liam told you about me, but this stops now. No jokes, no comments, nothing. Or I will have you exiled from my set so fast that your head will spin.”

“Got it. Consider it gone.” Drake said, his expression suddenly growing serious. “But just so you know, he does like you. Don’t really see the appeal myself at the moment, but he seems to like you a lot.”

My breath catches in my throat, and for a moment I wish that I was anyone else. That I was really Riley from the bar and that Liam and I were able to explore things further. But there’s no point in wishing for things that are never going to happen. So I pull my guard back up and storm past him, pulling open the door. “It doesn’t fucking matter how he feels, all I want from him is a good season. I could care less about anything else.”

I slam the door behind me, taking a deep breath to calm my nerves. I watch as Olivia enters the foyer, Liam’s eyes slightly widening as she walks towards him. I couldn’t hear much from my location, but seeing Liam’s face, she had clearly made a good impression I needed from her. Perfect, that’s what I wanted. I tell myself that I’m in need of a good villain. That it will be easier to keep her around if they have a true connection. 

So why do I suddenly feel like I’m about to be sick?


	4. If You Don't Draw the Line

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As the first night of filming continues, Andi tries to keep her focus on work while Liam meets more of the competitors.

“And that’s a wrap.” the AD shouts from behind the camera. Before I know it, everyone is being ushered into separate rooms, the women going to make up for touch-ups while we reset for the masquerade party. I quickly brush past Liam as he talks with Tariq, his slightly sullen gaze burning a hole in my back. It takes everything in me, but I refuse to turn around. Seeing him beam brightly at Olivia was enough of a realization to shake me back to reality.

I walk down the hallway, my mind spinning, oblivious to the chaos surrounding me. I nod at the production assistants asking me questions, their voices drowned out in the screaming thoughts in my mind. The air is stifling in the pre-fab piece of shit we call a set. I spot an exit, quickly darting through the door before anyone else can follow. 

I stand on the edge of the property, the sparkling lights of the city filling my view with a comforting glow. Breathe in, breathe out. I try to lie to myself, tell myself that I have no idea where this crushing feeling is stemming from, but it’s useless. I shake my head, it must be my sleep deprivation turning me into an insane person. I need to crash soon, otherwise, I’m going to be boiling bunnies by the end of the season. I rub my hands over my face slowly. “Get a fucking grip, Connors.”

“Andi….” a quiet voice calls out from behind me. 

The small hairs on the back of my neck stand up at the sound. I close my eyes, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me. I turn, giving Liam a tight smile. 

“What’s up?” I ask, trying to sound as casual as possible. 

He starts to respond but quickly closes his mouth. I expect a quip, some smart ass comment that makes my face turn all shades of red. But instead, he offers me a small, sad smile. “I just wanted to make sure you were alright.”

I pause, unsure of how to respond. What am I supposed to say? That seeing you with these other women is making me act like a crazy fucking stalker? That it is literally killing me to stand this close to you, not being able to feel your lips on mine? I shake my head, reminding myself that my ass is on the line if anything goes wrong with this season. “‘I’m fine.” I reply, my tone betraying none of my inner thoughts. “Just needed a moment of quiet.”

He takes a small step towards me, close enough that I can smell the same intoxicating scent that lingers on his skin. “Are you sure? You seem….” His voice trails off, but the same look of concern remains. 

“I said I’m fine.” I snap, sidestepping him. “You shouldn’t be out here. We are going to need an initial impression interview from you. They are expecting you in the confessional.”

“Andi….” He says, still trying to get me to meet his eyes. I try to keep my cold composure, but his gentle expression starts to crack my thinly veiled disguise. Wordlessly, I walk past him, re-entering the house without so much as a second glance. 

………………………………………………………………….

I slink into the back of the production room, watching as Maxwell and Bertrand replay the footage, making sure we got every shot we’re looking for. 

“Ah, see, there it is,” Bertrand says when Olivia enters the scene. “That’s what we need. Instant chemistry…even beneath the masks.” He turns around and spots me in the corner. “She’s one of yours, right Andi?” I nod slightly, swallowing away the dryness in my throat. He offers me a rare smile. “Nicely done.”

“Yup,” I say sardonically. “I sure know how to pick a winner.”

Bertrand snorts. “Oh, don’t be absurd. She will never actually win. But she’s going to make some damn fine television before she goes.” He adds. “We need to get some shots of her with the other women, really play up her competitive side. Can you handle that?”

I smile half-heartedly. “You know I can.”

“Fantastic. And you, Maxwell…you need your girls to step it up if you even want to have a fighting chance this year. I could practically hear the remotes clicking when they were meeting Liam.”

“Yup got it, boss.” He says with a small salute, moving towards the make-up department. I slouch back in my chair, spinning it in small half-circles. Honestly, I am so tired that I can barely function, much less start probing around for sound bites. But based on the look Bertrand is giving me, he doesn’t really care.

“What is it you are exactly waiting for?” He seethes, all previously glimmers of pride erased from his face. 

I roll my eyes as I stand up, following Maxwell’s tracks into the small dressing room off of the main hallway. As the door opens, I choke on the overwhelming aroma of hair spray, perfume, and desperation. Each of the women sits in their respective spots, applying new layers of make-up and practicing their most endearing smiles. Most watch as I pass by, calling out different requests and questions. But that’s not what I’m here for at this moment. Let some innocent intern deal with your complaints about the lack of diet soda. I have shit to do, and I know exactly who I need to help me. I make my way over to Olivia’s chair, plopping down on the cushion next to her. 

“So…how do you think it went with Liam?” I asked playfully, feigning genuine curiosity. 

She gives me a small, cat-like smile. It makes me shudder. “I think it went very well. He is much more handsome than his photo led me to believe.”

“Good!” I reply, trying to swallow the hitch in my throat. “So what’s your plan for the rest of the night? How are you going to get Liam’s attention?”

Olivia lets out a small scoff. “Like it’s going to be hard. I mean, look at the rest of these half-wits.” She dismissively waves over to one of the women sitting a few seats away, one I recognize from my side of the board. “That girl…Penelope something or other, she’s already on the verge of tears.” She turns back to the mirror, adjusting her lipstick. “I could probably break her with just a simple suggestion.” 

“Maybe….” I say, pretending to mull over her idea. Penelope’s my girl, and as much as I want to send her packing, I can’t. Not yet. I run through Olivia’s file in my mind. Trying to find some way to dissuade her from her task. Heir to Nevarkis Enterprises. They call themselves private contractors, but from the information I have found, they are pretty damn close to the militia. An only child, raised by emotionally distant parents. Her psych report reads like a chapter from The Art of War. Everything is a competition to her, always looking for weaknesses in others to exploit. Luckily, she’s not the only one who can pick up on someone’s blind spots. 

I shrug, picking at my nail absent-mindedly. “I mean…if you really see her as competition, then you should go for it.”

“Please.” Olivia sneers, “She’s barely even present, she’s hardly a threat.”

“You must be a little nervous if you’re focusing on her already. As you said, she’s already almost in tears, and it’s been fifteen minutes. Personally, I would think she’s someone to keep around, an easy target for when the game gets more intense.” I lean back, shrugging my shoulders. “But it’s up to you.”

Olivia sits back in her chair, giving me a long appraising look. “I will take that into consideration.”

I smile as I get up, “Good luck.”

…………………………………………………………………..

By the time I get back into the foyer, the area has completely transformed into something from out of an epic romance movie. The sheer number of candles alone is enough to make anyone’s knees weak. Liam stands at the center of the room, watching the madness unfold around him. I found my same spot near the corner, luckily it’s empty this time. I look around, curious if Drake is lurking around somewhere. I shrug when I realize he probably headed to bed, already gotten his fill of the shit show for the night. I’m partially relieved. While I usually enjoy sparring with someone who can match my snark level, I’m feeling emotionally depleted, the human equivalent of a wet piece of paper. A few carefully worded barbs and I would disintegrate, and that can’t happen. Not with only five more hours of hard night left, and an entire party to film. 

I hear the countdown begin in my ear, readying myself for the onslaught of giggles and pathetic attempts to catch Liam’s eye. I take stock of my girls and their positions. Happily, I see Olivia and Kiara at the front of the pack. I make note to push Kiara later, needing my wifey on screen as much as possible if she’s going to make a strong impression on viewers. 

Maxwell sits down next to me, patting my knee softly. “Can’t believe we fucking pulled it off,” he whispers. I shoot him a look. “Okay, okay. That you pulled it off. I’m proud of you, Blossom.”

“Fuck off with that shit, Max,” I reply, but a small smile creeps across my face at the praise. Bertrand's voice squawks out over the walkie talkie, causing me to pull my earpiece out. “What is going on with him?” I ask quietly. “Since when does he actually come on to set unless there’s a problem?”

Maxwell leans closer to me, whispering conspiratorially. “Well, you didn’t hear this from me, but my father has been mentioning that he’s looking to retire soon. And guess who’s trying to show that he can take on his role….”

I lean back, almost smacking my head on the marble planter behind me. It’s bad enough dealing with Sergeant Douchebag with the small amount of power he currently has. Anymore control over people and he would basically become a Bond villain. I peek over at Maxwell, hoping for some hint of amusement in his eyes. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” I groan when I realize he’s completely serious.

“I wish…” he says under his breath. “But that does mean that they are looking for someone to take over his position here.” He nudged my side with his elbow. “Maybe a certain little blossom with the magic touch.”

“Please never put those words in a sentence again,” I reply before realizing what he is saying. “Wait…you mean they are thinking about me? In charge? Of all of this?” My head starts to spin at the idea. Holy fuck, I could be leading my own show. Before I hit thirty. That’s basically unheard of in this business.

Maxwell furrows his brow, giving me an incredulous look. “Of course, they’re looking at you. We all know who keeps this shit together. There’s no one who deserves it more in my not-so-humble opinion.”

I sit back, trying to process how I’m feeling at this exact moment. On one side, I am overjoyed that the higher-ups have noticed how much I have been killing myself for the past few years. The late nights, completely unhealthy lifestyle, and the definite ulcer forming in my stomach might just be fucking worth it if I get to put the word Executive in front of my job title. 

But the other side, the persistent nagging of my conscience, screams that this is a terrible idea. If I step into that role, it will seal my fate. I will never be able to leave. I tell myself every year that it’s going to be my last, that I will walk away and find a socially acceptable job that doesn’t involve manipulating everyone around me. But it never happens. And each year it becomes harder and harder to walk away. 

I hear a small giggle from the dance floor that snaps me out of my thoughts. I glance over to see Liam twirling one of the women effortlessly, wide genuine smiles crossing both of their faces. My heart gets heavy at the sight. If I actually get this promotion, there goes the last shred of normalcy in my life, any chance of being an actual human with a life beyond this world. I shake my head, knowing that I am getting way ahead of myself. 

“Let’s just focus on the rest of tonight,” I answer quietly. Maxwell looks like he’s about to retort when our collective earpieces come to life. 

“Someone do something! This is supposed to be an exciting evening, not the slow march towards death. Pull some girls for interviews, give me something I can work with!” Bertrand bellows. 

I roll my eyes as I respond back into the walkie. This was your stupid fucking idea, I want to scream back at him, you fucking fix this snore-fest. “Divide and conquer.” I tell Maxwell, “Start having the interns pour double the amount of champagne, and grab Liam for some one on ones. I’m going to see what I can drag up.”

Maxwell shoots me a quick wink before darting down the hallway towards the kitchen. I corral a few women, offering them small suggestions on how to really get Liam’s attention as I lead them to the room by the backyard. The small canopy area looks like a forgotten set from a fantasy show, the gardens surrounding the love seat decorated with blooming roses and small lights weaved through the branches. I wait for Maxwell to return, kicking my foot in the dirt, as I squint my eyes at the absurd amount of twinkle lights. I swear sometimes that our decorators are middle school girls, which wasn’t my scene even when I was pre-pubescent. The sheer amount of tulle alone is enough to turn my stomach. 

Someone clears their throat behind me, causing me to turn around. Liam stands a respectable distance away from me, his usual smirk missing from his expression. “I was told to wait here.” He says flatly. 

“Yeah, we’re just waiting for someone to test the lighting before we start.” I lean back on my heels, unable to shake the chill that’s suddenly between us. I start to rack my brain for things to say, anything to break the awkward stalemate between us. This is what you wanted, I scream to myself, but I can’t help but miss the familiar flush in my cheeks. We stand in silence for a few moments, both avoiding each other’s gazes. 

Finally, I can’t hold back any longer. “Are you alright?” I ask quietly. 

“Are you asking because it’s your job, or as a person who cares?” He responds, still not meeting my eyes. 

Ouch. I wince slightly. I deserve the barb, I’ve been throwing them at him all night, but I can’t say that it doesn’t sting a little. 

“Both?” I quietly respond. 

He finally meets my eye, a hint of his usual cocky smile returning before his face falls again. He steps towards the gazebo, scoffing slightly at the decorations, thumbing one of the roses. “So what should I expect from these meetings?”

I smile slightly, moving up beside him. “This is your chance to get to know some of the women. At the end of the night, you need to pick someone who made the best first impression, and you’ll take them on a date tomorrow.” I scoff slightly, running my hands through the tangled mess of my hair. “So….anyone stand out so far?”

Liam exhales slowly, taking his time before answering. I try to stay calm, but the wild beating of my heart is making it almost impossible. He shrugs, “There are a couple who seem interesting, but I can’t be sure just yet.” 

I turn over my shoulder, watching as the camera crew starts to approach us. I lightly touch Liam’s arm. I have no idea what I am doing, but I literally can’t help myself. “It’ll get easier. The first night is awkward for everyone. Just try to have an open mind.”

He nods silently, placing his hand on top of mine, his thumb grazing the back of my hand. I start to think of something to say, something bitchy to put the lines back up between us, but I can’t. All I can think of is the feeling of our hands together. I hear voices coming closer, dropping my hand as I take a step back, ushering Kiara into the space I just occupied. I walk away, moving to the spot behind the camera, right back where I belong. 

…………………………………………………………….

As the evening progresses smoothly, I lean back in my spot, desperately trying to keep my eyes open. Katie, one of Maxwell’s girls, is working overtime to impress Liam by discussing her family and their immeasurable wealth. I roll my eyes, the pretentiousness making my stomach flip. I watch Liam, nodding along as she speaks. To anyone else, it looks like he’s following along, hanging on each of her words. But I can see the slight smirk on the side of his lips. I give Liam the signal, telling him to wrap it up. He shoots me a grateful smile, “Well, this has been lovely Katie, but I’m afraid I have some other women to speak to tonight before I make my choice.”

Katie smiles suggestively at him, resting her hand on his thigh. “Then maybe I should leave you with something to remember me by…” She presses her lips to his in a swift and desperate kiss. I swallow my bile as I see her tongue trying to part his lips. Liam rests his hand on her shoulder, gently creating some space between them. “I certainly will remember that.” He whispers. 

As she walks away from the gazebo, she makes a bee-line for Maxwell, shooting him daggers. “This is bullshit. I need my phone. How the hell am I supposed to update my followers if you’re holding my phone hostage for the next few weeks?”

Maxwell starts to fumble before I jump in. “It’s only a few weeks if you’re lucky. Keep up the shitty attitude and you can have it back tonight. As you’re packing to go home.”

She narrows her eyes down at me before letting out a loud whine, turning on her heels back into the palace.

I nudge Max, shooting him an annoyed look. “That’s your pick for a wifey? Seriously?”

He rubs the bridge of his nose, “She seemed like a sweet girl in her initial interviews. She kept talking about her relationship with her siblings, and she seemed down to earth. She wasn’t this…”

“Insufferable? Vapid?” I offer. “You’re almost making it too easy for me.”

He nods his head towards the gazebo, indicating a new girl entering the scene. “I wouldn’t be so sure about that.” 

The woman offers Liam her hand elegantly, a beautiful smile crossing her lips. “Hello, Liam.”

He smiles brightly back at her. “Hello Hana, it’s lovely to see you again.”

I arch my brow back at Maxwell, not recognizing her from the initial introductions. Then it hits me, the fucking storage closet. She must have made her entrance when I was trying to stop myself from ripping Drake’s throat out. I listen intently. I try to remember the few details I have on Hana. Maxwell and I rarely share details about our competitors, save for the pictures and their labels. I try to picture the board, what category she was placed into. Suddenly it hits me. “Wait…is this the virgin?” I ask. 

Maxwell winks back at me. “Pretty perfect huh? Her father is a businessman from Shanghai, so she’s used to the lifestyle.” He gives me a confident grin. “Still think I’m making it easy for you?”

……………………………………………………………..

As the last woman exits the gazebo, Liam rubs his hands over his eyes, letting out a large groan. I walk over, passing him a bottle of water. “Buck up, buddy. Only a few more hours to go.”

He meets my eyes with an incredulous look before leaning back against the couch. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Nope. No such luck.” I plop down next to him. “But you have a small break while they set up for the elimination.” 

“How long are we talking?” He asks, closing his eyes as he rests his head on the cushion. “That last woman sucked all of the energy out of me. I have never in my life met someone as obsessed with poodles as that one.”

I let out a small laugh. “Please don’t tell me you’re a cat person.”

He gives me a small look. “And if I am? Is there some rule where your suitor has to only like dogs?”

I shake my head, unable to stop the wide grin from forming. “More of my own personal rule. Not a cat person…although I’m not really a dog person either.” I scrunch my face. “Or a people person now that I think about it.”

“So what does that leave?” Liam teases.

“Lizards,” I reply flatly before a smirk betrays me. “Bertrand’s given me plenty of experience.”

Liam lets out a loud laugh, the first genuine one I’ve heard all night. “Thank you, I needed that more than I realized.” He sat up, stretching his arms over his head. I bite my lip slightly as his suit moves, tightening against the hard ridges of his back. “Is there any way I can convince you to take a walk with me?” he asks. 

“Oh…” I start to reply, fumbling with the clipboard in front of me. “I shouldn’t…I have tons of shit to get done before the next scene.”

He faces me, the same earnest eyes that make my heart skip a beat. “Please, Andi. I just….I need a few minutes away from all of this.” He clears his throat, looking around to the crew members moving around us. “I would like some advice…from my producer…about who I should eliminate tonight.”

“Right,” I say, nodding along. I look down at my phone, running through the schedule in my mind. Fuck it. “Meet me in the side garden in 20 minutes.”

…………………………………………………………….

I walk over to the gardens, peering over my shoulder every few seconds to make sure no one is following me. I feel like a criminal like I’m committing some intense jewel heist, when in reality I’m just going to talk to Liam. I lie to myself for the hundredth time tonight, telling myself that we’re going to only talk about the show, about the girls he’s going to cut tonight. I’ve come prepared, the kill list I’ve assembled clipped to the top of my stack of papers. Hopefully, Liam is on the same page, otherwise, this could go downhill fast.

As I slide behind the large hedges at the edge of the property, I spot him, staring off into the horizon. He lets out a large sigh, his hands tucked in his pockets. I stand back and take him in for a few moments before I make myself known. He turns and smiles as I approach, “You had me worried there for a moment.” 

I shrug. “You’ve had twenty women bending over backward all night to get your attention, figured you could use a little ego check.” I step towards him, sitting down in the grass. I pat the spot next to me, motioning for him to sit. “This is a blind spot. The hedges block the cameras inside of the house, and they rarely come out this way.”

Liam nods. “Good to know.” 

I let out a deep breath, crossing my arms around my knees. “So, how’s your first night going?”

“It’s been….interesting. I’m not used to having this level of attention on me.” He lets out a dry laugh. “It feels odd to complain about having beautiful women following around all night but it’s not…it’s just not what I was expecting.”

“What were you expecting?” I ask quietly. 

Liam shakes his head. “I wish I knew.” He releases a long breath. “My father…he’s always tried to introduce me to his associate’s daughters, trying to get me to marry someone for the sake of our business, just like he has. But it’s never been what I wanted. I’ve fought my whole life against the idea of picking someone based on what they can do for me, as opposed to how I feel, and yet…..” He scoffs to himself. “Here I am.”

I unlock my arms, placing my palms in the grass behind me. “Look, I’m not known for being the most….optimistic person, but you never know until you try. I personally vetted half of the women in there, and they’re not all terrible. Some are, I will give you that. But there are a few that might surprise you.”

He nods silently. I turn towards him. “And, worst comes to worst, you don’t actually have to marry whoever you pick. God knows there have been quite a few broken engagements in our history.”

“That’s just it. I don’t know if I will be able to. My family…they are depending on me. I can’t let them down.” His gaze meets mine, giving me a look that shakes me to my toes. “No how much I want to.” He turns away, clearing his throat. “Sorry, shouldn’t have burdened you with my troubles again.” He smiles, all past pain erased from his expression. “Who do you think I should cut?”

It takes me a moment to regain my focus, to remember that’s the reason we’re here, even though everything in me hoped it was for other reasons. I pass him the sheet, “If you could cut these girls, that would make my life a hell of a lot easier.”

He reads the list intently until he points his finger to one recent addition. “You want me to cut Katie? Why?”

I scoff slightly. “Seriously? The park avenue princess thing didn’t annoy the shit out of you?”

“Not really. She seemed nice enough. I would like to get to know her more.”

“Right.” I scoff. “I’m sure that’s the exact reason you want to keep her around?” I stand up, starting to walk away with the list tucked under my arm. 

Suddenly, Liam’s hand is on my arm, turning me back towards him. “What is that supposed to mean?”

I look down at his hand, and he removes it immediately. “Exactly how it sounds. I’m sure you want to keep her because she’s nice. Not because she stuck her tongue down your throat within ten minutes of meeting you?”

Liam backs away, a confused look crossing his face. “Why does that matter? You’re the one who told me I should be focusing on making connections.”

“Yes! But not with a girl like that!” I yell, throwing my hands in the air. “She’s self-centered, she’s incredibly vain, she’s–”

“She’s not you?” Liam quips back, the same infuriating look on his face.

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” I harshly whisper. An inferno rages inside of me at his comment. How dare he make that assumption, that I am purely motivated by my own selfish desires, not because I am trying to do my job. I want to scream at him, tell him to go fuck himself, to storm away, and never look back. “Just because we fucked one time, does not mean that you know me, or what I’m feeling at all.”

Liam doesn’t back down, the same level of intensity of rage mirroring back to me. It honestly makes my knees wobble slightly. “Of course I don’t know what you’re fucking thinking! You push me away every chance you get!” He lets out a long breath, tucking his hands in his pockets. By the time he meets my eyes again, the fire has gone down, replaced by something that resembles regret. He takes a small step towards me. “Is that really all it was to you?”

I look down, unable to meet his eyes. I want to tell him yes, put this whole mess to bed before whatever this is escalates further. But as I pick up my head, all I can do is shake it slowly. “No,” I whisper quietly. 

Liam steps forward. “I don’t know what it is about you, Andi. But I haven’t been able to get you out of my mind. I’ve never felt a connection like that it so little time.” He reaches out towards me, his hand gently taking mine. “Please tell me I’m not the only one.”

I link my fingers with his, moving closer towards him. “You’re not.” I finally admit, more to myself than him. I let out a long breath, the tensions that’s been coiled in my chest finally releasing. “But I meant what I said earlier. You signed a contract, and Bertrand won’t hesitate to use it against you.”

He nods solemnly but still pulls my hand, bringing me directly in front of him. I roll my lips at the closeness of him, his deep blue eyes stirring all kinds of feelings throughout my body. “Then I’ll do the show. But only if you promise to let me get to know you more.” He lifts my hand to his lips, kissing the back of it lightly. 

“This is a terrible idea,” I whisper back, my voice catching in my throat. “I can’t get involved with a suitor.” His thumb brushes along my cheek, sweeping some of my hair behind my hair. I struggle to remember my arguments, about all of the reasons I have not to completely fly out of my brain. “You need to give the other women a chance…” I muse, leaning my face up towards his. 

“And I will.” He smirks. “But only if you give me a chance as well.”

I shake my head. “Cocky fucking bastard,” I whisper before pressing my lips into his. His arms tighten around my waist as our mouths move together in perfect harmony. My mind screams at me to stop, but at this point, there’s no fucking way that will ever happen. It would be easier to stop breathing than to stop kissing Liam at this moment. 

He leans back slightly, a rueful smirk planted on his lips. “You’ve wanted to do that all day, haven’t you?”

“Shut up,” the only words that remain in my brain, all other thoughts completely consumed by his skin finally on mine again. It’s been less than 48 hours, but it feel like it’s been a lifetime, every part of my body calling out for him. Suddenly a loud crash from inside the set brings us back to reality. He releases me, but not before running his thumb along my bottom lip.

“You alright?” He asks quietly, his hand still lingering on me. 

I try to catch my breath, all of my words and thoughts failing me. The faint energy is still electric between us, even as we part. I have never felt anything like this in my life, and in that moment I am terrified. I should be fearful of what will happen, what people will say, what will happen when it will inevitably blow up in our faces.

But right now, the only thing I’m afraid of is never kissing him again. No one in my life has ever kissed me like Liam does. 

I nod slightly, offering him a small smile. “I think you’re trying to kill me.”

“Tempting.” He muses, before brushing his lips lightly with mine. “But I think I prefer you alive.” He brushes a piece of hair from my face, smiling softly down at me. “Especially when you get this flushed look on your face.”

I push him away from me with a laugh. “You’re ridiculous.”

His face suddenly turns serious, “And you’re beautiful.”

I recoil slightly, the earnest comment throwing me completely off my game. I take a step back, grabbing my discarded papers, needing space to get my head on straight. My phone buzzes in my pocket, messages from Maxwell flooding my home screen. “Fuck.” I whisper. “We have to go.” I peek around the bushes, ensuring that no one is coming in our direction. “Okay, I’m going to go first, then you follow in a couple of minutes.” I point towards him. “And you’re cutting Katie tonight.”

He laughs, rubbing his chin with his hand. “And if I don’t?”

I shake my head, chuckling to myself as I walk away. “That’s on you. I’m not the one who has to talk to her.” 

………………………………………………………………….

I sit back in the production office, gulping down the coffee in my hand, praying the caffeine gods will be kind and work quickly. I already started to drift off when Tariq gave his long-winded speech announcing the first round of eliminations. I am not-so-pleasantly surprised when Hana receives the first impression rose, Maxwell letting out a large whoop behind me. I watch the monitor, seeing Olivia’s eyes narrow in the crowd. At least I can work with that.

The seat next to me starts to move closer. “Did I miss the rose ceremony?” Drake whispers to me. 

“Wrong show.” I quip. “We keep it classy with crown necklaces.” I shoot him an exaggerated wink. “Gotta keep up with the times there, Drake.”

He lets out a large groan. “Really fucking classy.”

I roll my eyes, a difficult task when I am carefully watching the monitors. “You know,” I whisper. “You really aren’t supposed to be back here.” I point to the sign on the door. “Crew only.”

“Love to see Beaumont try to throw me outta here,” Drake replies. 

As Liam takes the last necklace in his hand, I quickly shush Drake, pushing his chair away from mine with my foot. He shoots me an annoyed look as he moves back, trying to follow my gaze to the monitor. “Last one for the night?” He raises his voice in false excitement. “Who’s he going to choose?”

I try to think of a witty comeback, but I’m too laser-focused on Liam and the remaining women standing nervously in front of him. He plays with the necklace in his hand, twirling the chain between his fingers. He looks up, offering a resigned look to the crowd. “This has not been an easy choice for me, but I’m picking a woman tonight that i would like to get to know better.” He looks at the camera, his signature smirk briefly crossing his face. I know what he is going to say, before the words even leave his lips. I shake my head, but I can’t help but grin. Well played, Rys. You win this round.

He turns back to the women, extending his hand. “Katie, will you please join me?”


	5. Can't Get a Hold of Myself

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Andi and Maxwell prep the girls for the first day and filming. Liam and Andi make a bet during the first group date.

The incessant buzzing of my phone’s alarm jolts me awake the next morning. “Fuck.” I whisper as I try to stretch out my crying muscles. That’s what I get for sleeping in one of the storage trailers. But in better news, at least it seems like my brain is functioning again. A solid five hours of REM sleep works wonders for a girl. 

I slowly sit up, leaning down so I don’t hit my head on the metal shelves above me. The last thing I need today is a concussion. I get enough headaches from the incessant giggles and nauseating love confessions that occupy most of my time. I don’t need to pile on top of it. I pull out my purse, grinning widely when I find the big bottle of aspirin. Thank you past self for being on top of things. 

I slowly walk out of the trailer, dry swallowing the pills. Luckily, I’m able to avoid the judgmental eyes of most of the crew, the majority still at home in bed like normal humans. I would love to say that I’m being slick about hiding out, but I’m still in the same clothes as I wore yesterday. Take a quick look at me, and you would probably think that I’m on a walk of shame. Well, I kind of am. Except, the only thing I’m leaving behind in the morning is poor judgment and some serious frustration. 

When I finally closed my eyes last night, I swore I could still feel Liam’s lips on mine. Exacting and tantalizing, sucking all of the thoughts from my mind. I’ve never been kissed like that in my life. I run my fingers through my tangled hair, trying to figure out how it even happened. How we went from fighting to his lips overtaking mine. I touch my lower lip softly. Shit, I’m in so much fucking trouble. Every kiss makes me a little bit more reckless, and as much as I tell myself otherwise, I can’t stay away. 

I walk into the production office, digging in the corner for my hidden, pre-packed bag of emergency clothes and a hefty amount of deodorant. I look around, lifting my shirt over my head when I am confident that no one else is lurking around me. However, as I start to pull on my clean shirt, I hear someone clear their throat behind me. I lowered the rest of the fabric, turning around to find Maxwell grinning widely back at me.

“Please, don’t stop on my account.” He teases through his wide smile. 

I take my discarded shirt and throw it at his face, grumbling under my breath about my shitty luck. He catches it, dropping it back in my bag. “What are you even doing here?” I ask, checking the time on my phone. “Thought you would still be wrapped up in bed with one of the rejects from last night.”

Maxwell sits back in his car, kicking his legs up on the desk. “Ah, yes….Niamh…..Let me tell you, Liam’s missed out with that one.” He leans forward, offering me a conspiratorial smile. “I think I might be in love.”

I let out a loud snort. “Bullshit, Max. I doubt she’ll still around by the weekend.”

“You wound me, Andi. You know I am just a simple man looking for love!” Maxwell muses. 

“Uh-huh. And I’m fucking Aphrodite.” I shake my head, starting up the monitors for the day to begin. “I would believe you more if there weren’t a line of girls every season who fall into your bullshit.”

Maxwell lets out a short laugh. “You may have a point there.” He stands up, looking over my shoulder at the call sheet for the day. “Anyway, I slept so well after the vigorous activities of last night…I figured I would get a jump start today.” He bumps my hip. “Can’t let you win this thing so easily, you know.”

I roll my eyes, grabbing my clipboard off of the wall. I peruse my list of interviews, trying to form a plan of action in my mind. I know Olivia is primed and ready to take someone down, I just need to find a target to direct her towards. I look over to the bulletin board, Hana’s face pinned to the top next to Liam’s, the word wifey underlined excessively under her picture. I exhale slowly. They would make a cute couple, and in any other circumstances, I might even root for them. But for now, she is a thorn in my side, both professionally and personally. I ran my finger along the pictures of the remaining girls, quickly flicking Katie’s face before stopping at Olivia’s confident smirk. Hana needs to go, and luckily I know exactly how to do it. 

I walk out to the patio, cringing slightly as I take in the array of brightly colored Lycra. A bunch of the women are doing yoga in the grass. I sigh wistfully, watching them stretch through the synchronized moves. That’s something I wish I had time for. But the closest I’ve come to a real workout in the last few years is sprinting through the palace, usually when I hear the first signs of a fight about to erupt. I mentally add “have a legit workout” to my get-your-shit-together list, the same one that has been growing longer every day since I took this job. Other items include getting more sleep, eating something besides take-out and shitty snacks, and having a healthy relationship. Clearly, I haven’t made much progress. 

I head down the stone steps, quickly locating Olivia sitting alone by the bar, playing with a stack of toothpicks. I sit down on the stool next to her, eyeing the small pile she is collecting. “Bored?” I ask. 

“You have no idea.” She muttered between clenched teeth. 

I point to the group stretching on the grass, perfectly coiffed and made up despite the fact that they are supposed to be exercising. “You could always try yoga,” I suggest, a smirk breaking through my neutral expression. 

She scoffed slightly. “I’m not one for group activities. Besides..” she takes the toothpick, twirling it between her fingers. “I enjoy more hands-on exercises. What’s the point if there isn’t an element of danger?” 

I internally roll my eyes. This girl is really sticking to her ”I’m a bad-ass” narrative. We get it, you could destroy all of us with one solid hit. I really need to make sure Maxwell checked her luggage for weapons. Please, no stitches on my watch. 

“So….” I finally say, pulling my eyes away from the piece of wood she’s nimbly moving between her fingers. “Did you put any more thought into what we talked about last night?”

“I did.” She says slowly, meeting my eyes in an appraising glare. “I’m curious…what’s in it for you? I know better than to think that you are helping me out of the kindness of your heart.”

I try to give her my most placating smile, but I can quickly tell that it’s not going to work. “Fine…” I sigh. “It’s simple. You’re one of my girls, so the better you do, the better the season goes for me.” I shrug, leaning back into the chair. “I like you, Olivia, I can tell that most of your brain cells haven’t been destroyed by self-tanner and bleach, so that’s a win in my book. Between the two of us, we might be able to get you into the top three at least, if you’re willing to play by my rules.”

Olivia leans back in her seat, studying me closely. I feel like an ant being inspected under a magnifying glass, one flick of her wrist and I’ll be turned into dust. Despite the sinking feeling in my gut, I refuse to back down, matching her steely gaze with one of my own.

“Fine.” She says, flicking away the toothpick. “What do I have to do?”

……………………………………………………………………….

“And then there’s Morgana…she has such a feisty personality! I think she would just love Liam, he has a very genuine soul…I can already tell.” 

Penelope gives the camera a large smile, batting her eyelashes towards Maxwell. I involuntary shudder, trying not to show my obvious annoyance. I lean over to Maxwell and whisper in his ear. “Please. Just fucking kill me. Death would be easier than spending another minute with this goddamn moron.” I hand him my clipboard. “C’mon, quick tap, tap. Make all the nonsense go away.”

“But then who would I share all of these special moments with?” He teases back, linking his arm around my shoulders. I push him off, giving him my most withering stare. Maxwell looks up to the patio, instantly spotting Bertrand staring down at us, giving him an annoyed gesture. “That’s my cue.” Maxwell sighs. “I drew the short straw and get to go make sure everything is ready at the Race Track. Yay…..” He gives me a small wave as he heads inside, grabbing another crew to start setting up for the date taking place this afternoon. 

As he leaves, I find a spot in front of the camera. I give Penelope my most sickeningly sweet smile, as I pull out my notes. “So…Pen…How are you enjoying the house so far?”

“Oh! It’s so much fun! I’ve really loved getting to know the other girls. They are just lovely.”

I tilt my head slightly, letting my smile slightly drop. “Hmm…I guess she was right…” I say to myself, quiet enough to be confused for a whisper. 

Penelope leans in, a quizzical look crossing her face. “Who was right?”

“Oh, it’s nothing,” I say, waving off her concerns. “Just something some of the other contestants said. I wouldn’t worry too much about it.”

“No, please tell me.” She says, her chin already starting to tremble. “What were they saying about me?”

I lean in, looking over my shoulder, pretending that I am letting her in on some big secret. She’s making this too fucking easy for me. “I just…” I whisper to her, biting my lip as if I’m having trouble telling her the news. “I heard some of the other girls saying that you seem pretty naive….especially when you do that baby voice.” 

“What baby voice?” She says, purposefully trying to drop it several octaves. “What do they mean?”

I give her an apologetic glance. “They were saying that they don’t think Liam’s going to keep you around very long because you remind him of a little girl, not a woman.” I sit back, putting my hands in the air. “But you didn’t hear that from me.”

She nods quietly, her bright blue eyes starting to fill with tears. I should feel guilty, I know. But no part of me does. Maybe if she hadn’t wasted the past 20 minutes of my life explaining how she fits her dogs into miniature tuxedos, I would feel a little guilt. Oh well, add it to my growing list of sins.

As Penelope skulks off to go wallow in a corner somewhere, my ears pick up the sound of raised voices. I immediately enter the house, motioning for the cameras to follow closely behind. I track down the source of the noise, spotting Olivia and Hana in the foyer, locked in an intense conversation. I try to bite back my smile at how quickly Olivia works. 

“I’m just saying…enjoy your date with Liam today. It will probably be your last, considering how dreadfully dull you are.” Olivia smirks from the side of the stairwell, absent-mindedly stretching out her nails. “Try to keep him awake enough to enjoy his time with the rest of us.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Hana says, a small thread of doubt creeping through her words. “He picked me first last night….that obviously means something.”

Olivia steps closer, patting her cheek like a small child. “Oh, you sweet, innocent thing. You really don’t know anything about the world, do you?” She tuts her tongue, then steps away. “He feels sorry for you. Everyone said you were going to be cut first, so Liam took pity on you. Nothing more.” She let out a devious laugh. “Look around, Hana. Do you really think you can compete with the women here? Their experience….”

“I…I need to…..” Hana stammers before taking off up the stairs, her cries echoing against the marble floor. I motion for the camera to stay with Olivia, while I follow after Hana. To anyone else, it would seem like I’m being nurturing. In truth, I know where all of the cameras are hidden. She’s more likely to open up to me if she doesn’t know she’s being filmed. 

As I walk up the stairs, my conscience starts screaming at me, knowing that Hana is only crying because I sent Olivia in her path, and gave her the damning information she needed. I remind myself that this is my job, lie to myself that I don’t have much of a choice. I reach the top, and exhale slowly, trying to get my mind in the game. I can wallow in my self-loathing later. 

I knock quietly on Hana’s door, waiting for her to call out before I enter. I slip in, shutting the door behind me. “Hey…” I say quietly, stepping towards her bed, where she’s curled up in a ball, crying into her pillow. 

She glances up at me, wiping some of the tears from her eyes. “Andi…right? What are you doing here?”

I stepped forward, taking a seat at the edge of the bed. “I saw what happened. I wanted to check to see if you were okay.” I pause, placing my hand on hers. “Don’t let Olivia get to you.”

She grips my hand, letting out a shaky breath. “That’s…that’s very kind of you.”

I shrug, finding it easier than I thought to feign sympathy for her. There’s a part of me that does feel for her, she is clearly way over her head. She’s the injured fish bleeding out in a sea of sharks, and I can’t help but want to end her misery. 

She breathes in deeply, sitting up in the bed. “I know I shouldn’t let her words have the effect they do on me.” She lets out a quiet, self-deprecating laugh. “You probably think I am making a fool of myself.”

“Honestly….” I try to bite my tongue, but the words flow before I can hold them back anymore. “I think you’re making yourself an easy target. By showing Olivia she can get under your skin, she’s going to keep coming for you until you either make her back down or prove her wrong.” I lean in, whispering the next part. “Show that bitch how fucking strong you are.”

Hana giggles, covering her mouth with her hand. “You think I can do that? Olivia seems….” She shakes her head. “I’m no match for her.”

“Then ignore her. Focus on the connection you have with Liam.” My stomach twists at my words. What about my connection with Liam? The question rings out in my mind before I quickly squash it like a nagging mosquito. I clear my throat and stand up, starting to head towards the door. “We’re leaving in an hour for the date, this is your chance to show Liam who you are, not who Olivia is trying to portray you to be. Make it count.”

As I shut the door, I find myself leaning against the wall, tapping my head against the plaster. Not only have I just given a pep talk to the biggest threat from Maxwell’s camp, I told her the best ways to shut down my villain’s advances. I don’t know what is happening to me. But I need to start remembering who the hell am I, fast. 

……………………………………………………………………….

I sigh in relief as I see the sign for the racecourse come into view. The drive was barely an hour, but every minute felt like painful torture with the band of gossiping morons sitting behind me. I tried to absorb myself into my work, but I couldn’t help but listen in when the conversation turned to Liam. 

Olivia smirked towards her competition. “Kiara…you certainly seemed to connect with Liam.”

She shrugged, “We’ve traveled to a lot of the same places. I was explaining to him all of the languages I’ve studied. It was nice to talk to someone with the same worldly interests.”

Katie twirls a strand of her hair between her fingers, checking for split ends with her usual bored expression, “I think I did a great job showing him the french I know….”

I snort at the comment, reeking of desperation. I can’t get over the ego on this girl. She may have stuck her tongue down his throat, but she has no idea what a real kiss from Liam feels like. I lift my gaze to the rear-view mirror, seeing her glare at me in the reflection. I shoot back my most withering stare, smiling to myself when her mouth falls open. Stupid fucking trout mouth. 

After the van comes to a stop, I stretch my legs, directing the girls towards a white tent already prepped with craft services. I wave over to Maxwell, who actually looks like he has done his job for once. He smiles when he spots me, jogging in my direction. “So…what do you think?” He asks, motioning around him. 

“Wow, I’m impressed, Max.” I stretch up on my toes and tussle the hair on the top of his head. “I’ll be sure to let Bertrand know how hard you worked today.”

“Oh God, please no,” Maxwell says, feigning horror. “If he thinks I did well, he’ll expect me to put in this much effort all the time. No fucking thank you.” He walked towards the girls’ tent, waving over his shoulder.

I let out a small laugh, taking a moment to take in my surroundings. It feels good to be in the real world, even if it’s just for a few hours. I stroll around behind the stands, spotting an open stable. I know I shouldn’t, but I have to go in. I spent a large part of my childhood surrounded by horses, and if I’m being honest, I miss it more than I thought I would. So many of my past hobbies have fallen by the wayside, lost to the black hole of my job. 

I walk into the stable, running my hands along the warm wood of the stalls. I smile as I approach an occupied one, a large gray mare coming up to greet me. 

I lay my hand flat as I approach, letting the horse softly sniff my palm before I move forward, lightly brushing my fingers along its muzzle. The horse let out a soft sigh, lowering its head for the contact to continue. I laugh as it steps closer, checking me for hidden snacks. I hold my hands up, “Sorry bud, I don’t have any carrots. But if I find some, I know where to go.”

“Can’t say I expected this,” A voice calls out from behind me. I groan as I see Drake approaching, his hands tucked in the pockets of his jeans. Someone needs to give this guy a make-over, between the flannel and the denim, I feel like he’s auditioning to be an extra on a country-western. He laughs as he approaches the stall. “Kinda thought I’d find you in here, flat on your ass.”

I roll my eyes. “Your concern is touching.”

Drake smirks towards me. “Hey, what can I say? I have to find some ways to entertain myself around here.”

“I can think of a few.” I grit under my teeth. “Shouldn’t you be bothering Liam? Whispering in his ear what a load of shit all of this is?”

“Nah, he’s good right now. Maxwell’s got him in the middle of all the women. He’s got enough to deal with.” He stroked the horse’s muzzle, giving me an appraising look. “Didn’t take you for a horse person.” 

“You don’t actually know a fucking thing about me.” I scoff, turning my attention back to the mare, before letting out a long breath. “Sorry, long drive here. My snark level rises with my level of irritation.” I take a step back, leaning my back against an empty pen. “My sister used to ride a lot when we were growing up. I tag along to her lessons and hang out in the stables while she worked.” I shrugged. “I like horses more than most other animals.” I tilt my head. “And most people to be honest.”

“I know that feeling.” He says, rubbing the back of his neck. “So sister, huh? Not sure the world can handle two of you.”

“Three actually,” I say, shooting him a sly smirk. “All girls. But don’t worry sunshine, I’m the worst of them.”

“Why does that not make me feel better?” Drake asks. I roll my eyes, heading toward the entrance of the stables. I look over to the tent, rolling my lips together when I meet Liam’s gaze. He widens his eyes, mouthing “help me”, as the women try to pull him in different directions. 

Drake joins me at the entrance, laughing at the sight. “You’re not going to save the poor guy?”

“Nope,” I say, watching as Katie tries to drag Liam to her side. “He did this to himself.”

“Yeah…well, he could use the break.” He elbows me in the side lightly. “I’ll cover for you guys.”

I narrow my eyes slightly at him. “Why would you do that?” 

He shrugs. “Liam’s been having a tough time ever since his brother took off. He hasn’t been himself. Not until he saw you.” He turned back, looking at his friend’s panicked expression. “I think you two are good for each other.”

I cross my arms around my body, my gaze falling to the dirt in front of me. “That’s a really fucking dumb idea. If Maxwell or Bertrand catch us…”

“I’ll make sure they don’t. Tell them Liam needs a break from filming for a few minutes.” He pushes me towards the crowd. “It’s not like they’re going to throw him in suitor jail.”

“You never know,” I mumble. In truth, nothing would happen to Liam, except maybe a blip in a headline. But me, I have everything to lose. In the small world of television production, your name is the only thing you have on your side. One whiff of a scandal between someone behind the scenes and a contestant, you can kiss your career goodbye. Maybe it wouldn’t be the worst thing, a small voice calls out from the back of my mind. “Fine…” I sigh. “But if you screw me over on this, I’m making you bunk with Maxwell for the rest of the season.”

I grab Maxwell, telling him that we need a break to reset before the individual dates. I motioned silently for Liam to follow me, leading him to a closed tent at the edge of the green. Drake lingers behind, standing guard in front of the flaps after I close them. As soon as the entrance closes, Liam wraps his arms around me, lifting me up to meet him. “Hello there.” He teases against my lips. 

“Not the greeting I was expecting,” I reply, securing my arms around his neck. 

“Are you complaining?” He says, brushing the hair away from my face, letting his thumb graze my cheek. 

“Not even a little,” I say as I close the gap between us again. “You looked like you were having fun out there.”

He lets out a frustrated scoff, as he sets me down, running his hands through his hair. “I’m really trying to be fair to them, Andi. But it’s getting increasingly more difficult.” He leans down, whispering close to my ear. “Especially when I often find myself thinking of you.”

I link my hand with his, savoring the feeling of his skin on mine. The warm heat only fuels the thoughts in my mind. I bite my lower lip, smirking up at him. “Katie’s not holding your attention? Color me shocked.”

Liam lets out a small laugh, gathering me in his arms, my back resting against his firm chest. “What can I say? I like someone a little more…challenging.”

I groan, turning around in his embrace. “Is that why you’re so obsessed with me? Here I was, thinking it was the mind-blowing sex.”

He smirks, “That certainly didn’t hurt matters.” His face turns serious, looking out to the race track. “I want to see you away from all of this, for more than a few stolen minutes.”

I sigh as I turn away from him, rubbing my fingers in small circles against my forehead. “That’s going to be hard to manage, considering there are literally cameras following you around 24/7.” 

“Then it’s lucky I have someone on the inside.” He pressed a small kiss to the back of my neck. “There’s this incredibly sexy, absolutely terrifying woman who I think can figure out a way for us to escape for a couple of hours.”

I shake my head, “That woman sounds like she has enough to deal with without you trying to arrange a jailbreak. Do you have any idea what would happen to me if someone found out?” But as I think about spending some time alone with Liam, just him and I, I can’t help but smile like an idiot. I smirk up at him. “You just hate playing by someone else’s rules, don’t you?”

He laughs, lowering his voice so only I can hear. “Admit it, something about me makes you want to break your rules.”

Too fucking late, I think to myself, Liam’s arms still entangled around my waist. “I’m never going to admit that. You forget that part of my job is keeping your ass in line.” I take a step out of his embrace. “You should be focusing on the game, not on me.”

He smirks in my direction, closing the distance between us. “Are you sure that’s what you want?” 

He trails his finger along my jaw, bringing my gaze up to meet his. My eyes dart to his lips, trying to distract myself from their magnetic pull. I quickly take a step back, shaking my head despite the smile planted on my lips. I hear Maxwell calling my name outside, Drake trying to stall him at the entrance, telling him that he last saw me by the stables. 

“Tell you what,” I whisper to him. “Next race, we bet on two different horses. If you win, I’ll figure out a way we can get out of the palace for a bit.”

Liam arches his eyebrow, giving me an apprehensive look. “And if you win?”

I put my finger to my lips, tapping in thought. “I need something to liven up this date before Bertrand rips me a new one.”

He gives me a concerned look. “Okay…so what do you want me to do?”

“I need a kiss.” 

Liam leans forward, trying to meet my lips. I put my hand up, stopping him in his tracks. “Not me, Casanova, one of the girls.” 

“And you’re okay with that? With me kissing one of the other women?” 

I shrug. “I’m a big girl, I can handle it.” My mind screams out to me, knowing that this is a terrible idea. But I have to start thinking about what the show needs, what Liam needs to do to make this season successful. Whatever is brewing between us has to be put on the back burner, at least until the season ends. 

He holds out his hand, “Then you’re on. I’ll let you know which horse I’m betting on when we get back out there.” I press my palm against his, squealing slightly when he pulls me flush against his body, pressing his lips to mine in a desperate, hungry kiss. I moan softly as his hands grip me in all the right spots, every part of me screaming out for more.

Liam releases me just as quickly as he began, walking back through the flaps of the tent, shooting me a quick wink over his shoulder. 

I run my hands over my face, letting out a frustrated groan. Drake opens the flap, shaking his head at me. “You alright in there, Connors?”

“Just fucking peachy,” I mutter under my breath. 

“C’mon, Maxwell just showed me a place where we can watch the races without the harpies ruining it for us.” 

“I wish….” I reply, walking back out into the bright sunlight, shielding my eyes. “I’m supposed to be working, y’know.”

Drake brushes off my concern. “Make Maxwell earn his paycheck for once.”

I follow him to the side, my eyes glued to the date in front of me. I smile to myself as Liam scans the crowd every few minutes, not looking back at the women until he meets my eye with a sly smile. I roll my lips in my teeth, grinning like a moron. Drake lets out a dry laugh. “You two are ridiculous.”

“Ms. Connors?” A production assistant calls out, holding out a small piece of paper. “I was told to give this to you.”

I nod as I take the note, smiling to myself as I read the name hastily scribbled on it. I grab a pen from my pocket writing my response underneath Liam’s. I hand it back to the PA, instructing her to give it to Liam. I watch as she runs over, Liam smirking to himself when he reads my words. 

“Who’d you bet on?” Drake asks. 

I smirk towards him. “Twilight Dash.”

He shoots me a surprised look, “I thought you said you knew horses.”

I shrug. “I know a decent amount.”

“Then why the hell did you bet on that one? You and I both know it’s going to barely get out the gate.”

I glance over at Liam, tilting my head as I watch him smile, talking easily with Hana and Kiara. “Guess I’m not really that interested in winning after all.”

Drake continues to stare at me, before clearing his throat. “Just when I started to think I had you pegged, Connors.”

“Don’t start getting all soft on me now,” I say, a smirk returning to my lips as I watch the horse line up. “I have plenty of ways to make Liam’s - or your- life a waking nightmare if I choose to.”

“Based on all of the pining looks he’s been sending your way, seems like you’re already doing a pretty good job torturing him.”

“All part of my charm.” I retort before the starting gun fires, sending the horses in a fierce frenzy. I chew on my nails as I watch, unsure who I really want to win anymore. Everything in my workaholic brain tells me that I should want my horse to win, that I need Liam to up his romance quotient. At this point in the season, we’ve usually had a few steamy kisses, enough to get the viewers to believe that the suitor is starting to fall for some of the front runners. But beyond Katie’s tongue assault, there has been zero action so far. And I have no one to blame but myself. 

I let out a quick gasp when Marabelle’s Dream crosses the finish line first, marking Liam the official winner of our little bet. I look over to the tent, spotting Liam staring back at me. He smirks in my direction, mouthing the words “I win.”

I roll my eyes, trying to ignore the excitement brewing in my chest at the idea of a few uninterrupted hours with Liam. Now, I just have to figure out how in the hell I’m going to pull it off.


	6. I'll Get You in Lots of Trouble

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Guests from Liam’s past come to the set. Andi and Liam get some time away from the palace

As the date wraps up for the day at the racetrack, I stand next to the van, desperately trying to get the girls back to the palace. It would be easier wrangling fucking cats high on catnip at this point. Every single one whines and complains about getting back into the cramped space, quickly fraying my remaining nerves. I ignore most of their words until Olivia approaches. She narrows her eyes when she reaches the double doors, her fingers tapping on the metal frame. “This ‘date’ was total bullshit. I barely got any time with Liam.” She harshly whispers in my face. 

I shrug my shoulders. “I’m missing the part where that’s my problem.”

“You promised me if I went along with your little scheme, I would get some extra time with him. I held up my end, what the fuck are you doing to hold up yours?” She snarls.

“Calm it down, Ginger. I said you would get time with Liam and I meant it.” I give her my most disarming smile. “Day’s not over yet.”

Olivia gives me an appraising look, clearly weighing her different options. Oh, how quickly they forget the I hold the power here, not them. I wait for her to respond, arching my eyebrow, daring her to test my patience. But for once, she doesn’t retort, instead finds her seat between dumb and dumber in the van. 

I slam the doors closed, resisting the temptation to slam my head between the panels. I wave as the van drives away, flashing my middle finger when it turns the corner. I swear every day on this job brings me closer and closer to the brink of a mental breakdown. 

I walk back towards the grounds, supervising as the crew starts to break down all of the equipment. I collapse in one of the folding chairs, closing my eyes for a few minutes in the glorious quiet. I feel someone come next to me, exhaling slowly as they sink into the adjacent chair. 

“I swear Max, if you tell me that you let the horses loose, I will end you,” I mutter, keeping my eyes firmly shut. 

The person chuckles lightly. “Now that would have been an exciting way to conclude the day.”

I leap up out of my seat, meeting Liam’s amused smirk. “What are you still doing here? I thought you went back with the rest of the cast.”

“I’m going to ride back with Maxwell and Drake when they are finished talking to the stable manager. I figured this would be a good time to discuss my victory.” He leaned back in his chair, crossing his legs at his ankles, “And the terms of our bet.”

“Ah, yes. The jailbreak you expect me to miraculously arrange.” I roll my eyes. “I’ve been a little busy, you know, doing my real job, to think of how exactly I am supposed to pull it off.”

In the most infuriating of moves, he actually winks at me. “Take your time.” He stood up, walking towards me, his body next to mine but facing the opposite direction. He leans his head down towards mine, whispering in my ear. “You’re worth the wait.”

I inhale sharply, trying to ignore the swell in my chest at his words. I start to reply when I see Drake approaching, rubbing his hands over his eyes, Maxwell trailing a few feet behind him. 

“I just wanted to know if they could do it, not necessarily that I would do it!” Maxwell called out after him. 

Drake stepped in front of me, “Never leave me alone with him again.”

“Aww, what happened, buttercup? Maxwell told you the story of when he rode a horse naked down Rodeo Drive?” I ask. 

“What? No! I did not need that mental image.” Drake let out an exasperated huff. “He actually asked the stable manager if he could try to put a horn on one of the horses and make it into a unicorn.”

“It seemed like a good idea at the time!” Maxwell held his hands up in the air, making a mental picture in the sky. “Just picture it- the grand finale, Liam and his bride ride off on a beautiful unicorn.” He gives a chef’s kiss in the air. “All of America swoons.”

“You don’t put a fucking horn on some of the best racehorses in the country!” Drake spat back. “This isn’t a princess’ birthday party.”

“Oh, that gives me a good idea…” I add in, giving Drake my most devious expression.

“Don’t you fucking start.” He retorts in my direction, crossing his arms over his chest. “So what sort of painful torture do you have scheduled for tonight?”

I turn towards Liam, pointing in his direction. “This one has to pick a solo date for tonight, then tomorrow’s a cocktail party, followed by elimination.” I give Liam a poignant look. “2 more girls have to go. Think you can handle picking the right ones this time?”

“Depends on what you mean by the right ones.” He replies, his gaze moving behind me as his lips curved into a sly smile. “Speaking of…Max, I would love some of your feedback on who you think I should take on the date tonight…maybe who you think should be eliminated.”

I bite back my comment, knowing that my opinion is anything but neutral. I’m not even sure what I’m feeling anymore. Jealousy? That doesn’t sound like me. I’ve never been the jealous type, not that I’ve really felt something strong enough to get jealous about. I shake my head, trying to get back in the game. The way Maxwell smiles in my direction, I know exactly what’s coming before he even opens his mouth. 

“I gotcha, buddy. We can talk options in the van.” He leads Liam over to the vehicle, tossing a wink over his shoulder at me. 

“Fuck.” I whisper, throwing my head back in frustration. 

“Whatcha thinking, Connors?” Drake asks, watching my reaction with a strange curiosity. 

“Maxwell’s gonna try to get him to ditch one of my ringers.” I sigh, squeezing my hands tightly over and over again. “And I can’t even say anything, because it’s the same time of shithead move I would make.”

Drake scoffs, stepping towards the van. “I don’t get you.”

I arch my eyebrow, “What’s to get? If one of my girls win, then I win. Max and I make the same bet every year, and I almost always win. I have no intentions of letting him fuck up my streak now.”

“You keep telling yourself that, Connors.” He says over his shoulder, joining Maxwell and Liam in the van, shooting me a knowing look as they drive off, Liam and Maxwell locked in a deep conversation. 

……………………………………………………………………..

I walk through the palace, feeling much more myself after sneaking into one of the empty rooms for a shower, washing the smell of horse from my body. I enter the production room, surprised to find Bertrand perched in front of the monitors, scrutinizing the scene playing out. As I approach, he turns towards me, showing the footage that he is analyzing. 

“Andi, what the fuck is this?” He says, his voice low, pointing to the screen in disgust. 

“It’s the footage from the racetrack…,” I say, feigning innocence. “Liam and the girls hanging out between races.”

“I get that.” He spews. “But what the fuck is happening with these dates? There’s nothing usable here!.” He leans back, squeezing the bridge of his nose while he exhales slowly. I stand next to him silently, weighing all of my words, unsure of how to proceed. When Bertrand gets like this two things are guaranteed to happen. He will spend the majority of the night talking about how we are ruining the good name of the family Beaumont, and someone will be fired. Thinking about the pile of bills stacking on my console table, I keep my mouth firmly shut. He mutters under his breath about the uselessness of everyone around him, until he spots something on the screen. 

He presses forward on the controls, stopping at a close up of Liam smirking. My stomach drops, knowing exactly what he’s looking at. I can see the note tucked in his hand, my response to his bet. So fucking stupid, I scream in my mind, praying that none of the cameras caught the rest of our exchange. Bertrand continues, oblivious to my freak-out next to him. “Who is he staring at here? Not one of the cameras caught it?” He points to the monitor, “This is what we need. That’s the face of a man starting to fall in love.” He walks back towards me, tossing me the control. “Figure out who he’s looking at.”

As he exits the room, I scroll back through the footage of the day, pausing at the moments when I know Liam is looking at me. I can’t believe I’m admitting this, but Bertrand is right. The only time his face lights up is when he is glancing off-camera. Something about knowing that his best smiles are directed at me makes my heart race. I bite my lip, knowing that my face matches his, that he brings out the same ridiculously cheesy feelings that I am not used to. I drop my head into my hands, I am so fucked. 

Before I start to completely throw myself down the rabbit hole, Maxwell walks in, a triumphant grin plastered across his face. He slides over, squeezing my cheek before walking over to the board, running his fingers along the pictures. “Who will it be? Who will it be?” He muses under his breath. 

“Save it, Max,” I say, sitting back in my chair as I kick my feet up on the table. “I can already guess who you told him to take on the date.”

“I bet you do.” He stops, holding up the picture of Katie. “I think these two will have a very exciting evening.”

My eyes roll so hard, it physically hurts me. “That’s your big play?” I snort, unable to hold back anymore. “You sure know how to pick ‘em, Max.” 

Maxwell turns back towards me, scrutinizing my appearance with a frown on his face. “You need to go home, Blossom. You’ve got those crazy eyes going.”

“My eyes are perfectly sane, thank you very much. And they are open, so I’m staying.”

“I’m not trying to kick you out of here in some sick game, Andi. You’ve barely been home since the season started.” he gives me a sad smile. “I promise, I can handle the date. Katie’s easy to manage.”

My mind seizes at the thought, my head falling back into the chair. “Okay, fine. I’m out of here. But don’t you dare fuck this up for me.”

I grab my bag of spare clothes from the corner, knowing that I’ve run through my contingency outfits already. It’s probably for the best that I head home. After watching the footage, my mind is completely twisted. Watching Katie fawn over Liam in some desperate act would probably make me hurl. I’m better off getting a few decent hours of sleep before the shit show starts again tomorrow. Just as I reach the foyer, I hear Bertrand call out my name. So fucking close, I think, my keys still firmly grasped in my hand. 

Bertrand stops me on the way out the door. “Heading out for the night?”

“Yeah…apparently Maxwell has the date under control, so I’m going to go crash for the next….” I look down at my phone. “Six hours or so.”

He glances in my direction, a displeased look planted on his face. It’s not an unusual sight, but it doesn’t last as long as normal. He actually somewhat softens towards me, probably because of the gigantic bags under my eyes. “Probably a good idea. We all know how you can get when you haven’t had enough rest.”

I give him my most placating smile as I start to walk out the door. “By the way, on your way in tomorrow, I need you to swing by the Hotel. We have a couple of guests coming for the cocktail party and I need you to pick them up.”

“Oh…” I say, twisting my face in curiosity. “I didn’t see any names on the call sheet for tomorrow.”

“I didn’t add them in case the information got leaked.” He gave me a knowing look. “We can’t have more of our secrets slipping between the cracks.”

……………………………………………………………………..

I walk into the hotel, keeping my sunglasses firmly placed over my eyes, covering the still existing dark circles under my eyes. I did everything possible to shut off my mind, to distract myself from what was happening at the palace. I got a few texts throughout the night but mostly ignored them. Scrolling through this morning, it looks like the set is still in one piece. Score one point for Maxwell. 

I enter through the lobby, silently praying that no one recognizes from my drunken escapades only a few days. Shit, was it really only a few days ago? My mind has been playing tricks on me, either due to the lack of sleep or the amount of bullshit I’ve had to suck down over the last week. I look down at my phone, glancing at the picture of the two guests I’m supposed to meet. I spot them in the far corner. Despite their close proximity to each other, their bodies are turned in complete opposite directions. The woman sits disinterested, fixing her make-up in a small compact, while the man crudely stares down the cocktail waitresses. 

I stare at him, taking in his familiar demeanor, how his face twists into a familiar delighted grin. No fucking way, I think to myself. I look down at the image again, berating myself for not noticing earlier. I approach, removing my sunglasses from my face, squinting in the bright light of the day. 

I hold out my hand, “Hi! I’m Andi Connors, one of the producers from Royal Romance, I came to bring you to the set.”

“Hello gorgeous,” the man purrs, taking my hand in his, stroking my skin like it’s a precious pet. “I am Leo Rys, Liam’s older and much more handsome brother.” He presses my hand to his lips, never breaking eye contact with me. 

I pull my hand back, wiping it on the leg of my jeans. “Nice try, Romeo. Try to keep in your pants while you’re on set, kay?”

The woman lets out a small chuckle next to him. “It’s good to see someone is immune to your womanizing antics.” She holds out her hand, cringing slightly when I shake it in mine. “Madeleine Amaranth.”

“Nice to meet you,” I say, trying to understand her connection to Liam. I study her wedding finger, conspicuously bare just like Leo’s.

He leans towards her, carelessly whispering in her ear. “Don’t forget Mads, you fallen for my charms more than once.”

Madeleine smiles in his direction, her laced words sharp through her teeth. “When are you going to grow up, Leo?”

“Whenever you decide to remove that stick from your ass.” He wiggles his eyebrows in her direction. “I’ll be more than happy to help.”

“Right.” I clap my hands together, reminding myself to save some choice words for Bertrand when I return to the set. “We really should be going. We’re supposed to start filming the cocktail party soon, and we need our guests of honor.”

Leo walks toward the door, shamelessly checking out all of the patrons on the way out to the street. Madeleine pauses for a moment by the exit, placing her hand on my arm. “Does Liam know we are coming?”

I exhale slowly. “Probably not. Seems like this is something that Bertrand failed to run by most people.”

She nods slowly. “How is he? Has…” She looked down. Something resembling guilt crossing her expression. “Has he met any good candidates?”

I shake my head, trying to bide my time to think of an answer. “I’m not really sure, it’s still early in the season. You’ll have to see for yourself.”

With that non-answer, she exits the room, letting out a disgusted scoff when Leo cozies next to her in the backseat of my beat-up car. He tilts his head towards her as he wraps his arm around her shoulder. “Me and you in the backseat, huh Mads? Just like old times.”

I hop in the front seat, praying that the traffic gods are kind to me today. Any extended length of time with these two in an enclosed space and I’m not gonna make it. Or should I say, Leo isn’t going to make it, based on Madeleine’s glare alone. 

As we drive, I find myself looking back at her in the rearview mirror, trying to guess her connection to Liam. It seems odd that his brother’s former fling would travel across the world to come to see him. Maybe there is more history here that I’m missing. I try to think back to Liam’s dossier, to remember what information we dug up on his past relationship. There wasn’t anything too scandalous- a couple of hook-ups with hotel heiresses, a few models that he spent long weekends with. One serious relationship. My eyes widen in recognition as I think back to the short excerpt. Madeleine Amaranth, the woman Liam dated throughout University. Daughter of one of his father’s business associates. Heiress to a large family fortune. Dumped him two months after they graduated, claiming they would grow more apart than together. 

I try to focus on the road in front of me as my thoughts start to whirl around me, dying to know more about their relationship. It’s none of your fucking business, I try to tell myself. But I can’t help it, I need to know more. Normally, I don’t care too much about the suitor’s past, it’s much easier to exploit the contestant’s former loves to twist their emotions. But now, sitting behind me is the literal embodiment of Liam’s past, perfectly coiffed and poised. 

I look down at my outfit, the same pair of skinny jeans that I own in every color, an old band t-shirt sticking out from under my cardigan. I am a complete mess compared to her, why did he ever look twice at me?

Luckily a sharp blare of a car horn pulls me from my self-annihilation. I turn off the main road and promptly arrive at the palace, breathing a sigh of relief as we all exit my car. As Madeleine and Leo take in the set, I storm inside, heading straight into the production office. 

Bertrand turns and stares me down as I slam the door closed, closing my eyes for a few minutes. “Please tell me you went to the hotel.”

“I did.” I bite back. “Didn’t think you should tell anyone that you were bringing Liam’s brother and his ex to set?”

Max turned from me back to Bertrand, sharp disbelief in his eyes. “Oh fuck no, Bertrand you better not have brought Madeleine here. You know how much damage she did to Liam!”

“It’s not like you two left me much of a choice.” He grabbed his tablet, showing us the latest email from corporate. “They looked at the footage for the first couple of episodes, and they were not pleased. Said it was the most boring season since season five with the virgin suitor. I had to do something!”

I lean back against the wall, rubbing small circles over my eyes. “Please tell me you at least gave Liam some kind of heads-up.”

Bertrand stands quietly, his eyes flitting to the floor for a brief second before answering. “It’ll be better if we get his reaction on film.”

I start to argue with him but see the faces of everyone else in the room, all in full agreement with Bertrand. I sit down in my chair, staring up at the image of Liam pinned to the board. If this was any other suitor, I wouldn’t care, hell, I would have been the one to come up with the idea. We always pull out the token ex when rating look like they might bomb, a quick fix to amp up the drama. I exhale slowly, knowing what has to happen next, no matter how much I hate myself for it. “What do you need me to do?”

……………………………………………………………………..

I sit in the plastic chair in the back office, my leg bouncing like crazy from my nerves. I chew on my thumbnail, anxiously awaiting my name on the walkie. I stare out the glass door, moving the thin curtain that’s blocking my view, trying to catch a quick glimpse of Liam. I spot him next to Tariq, giving him a stoic smile, the one he uses when he is completely disinterested in the conversation he is stuck in. My gaze travels down his body, biting my lip as I admire his form in his khaki shorts, giving me an excellent view of his….

“See something you like?” Leo asks, following my view to Liam. 

I groan, taking a large step out of his vicinity. “Don’t you have an off button?”

“Not that I’m aware of.” He muses, lifting his shirt to show his sculpted chest. “But you are welcome to check.”

I roll my eyes, prepping a truly venomous come back when my walkie squawks to life, calling our guests to set. I see Liam search the crowd as Tariq announces the arrival of the two visitors, his jaw clenching at the mention of both of their names. Leo steps forward first. He mutters something in Leo’s ear when they embrace, patting each other a little too harshly on the back. Madeleine steps forward, brushing her lips lightly across his cheek. Liam visibly tenses, his hands placed firmly at his sides. I can see his hands twist into tight fists, his eyes barely looking in her direction. Clearly, there’s a lot more to this story than Maxwell let on. 

Tariq continues, missing the awkward tension in the room, “Tonight’s individual date will be determined by our two guests, so make sure that you make a great impression.”

As soon as the camera starts to back away, Liam makes a beeline for me, pulling me into a corner of the lot. “What the fuck, Andi?” 

I hold my hands up innocently. “I had nothing to do with this, I promise. It was all Bertrand.”

Liam seethes, storming off inside towards the production office. I try to step in his path, but he’s relentless, and there’s intense anger radiating from his body. As he turns the corner, I finally get the upper edge, stepping in his path, putting my hands on his chest. His heart beats wildly as his breath quickens, staring straight ahead.

“Let me go, Andi.” He whispers through gritted teeth

“Listen, I get that you’re pissed. Totally justified. But walking in there and throwing down with Bertrand isn’t going to go well for anyone.” I plead with him.

“He’s gone too fucking far this time.” Liam harshly replies, his eyes focused on the production door. “I’m done.”

“Hey,” I quietly say, directing his gaze back down towards me. “It’s going to be okay, They’re here for a couple of hours, that’s it.” My thumbs start to stroke his chest absent-mindedly. He takes my hands in his, breathing heavily as he stares me down. I drop them as a couple of interns walk by, giggling in ignorance of our conversation, of the lines that we are blatantly ignoring. “Why don’t you take a break and I’ll cover for you.” I push his shoulder. “Try to find a way to relax a little bit.”

His lips curl in a devilish smirk, a welcome change from his intense gaze, “It would be easier to find a way to relax if you joined me upstairs.”

I bite my lip, wishing the offer wasn’t as tempting as it was. “Nice try there, pretty boy.” I turn him around, pushing him towards the stairs. “You’re going to have to find a way to chill all on your own.” He goes up with a resigned groan but shoots me a quick wink when he reaches the landing. As soon as he is out of sight, I let out a long groan, heading back to the most awkward cocktail party of my life. 

……………………………………………………………………..

The rest of the afternoon passes in a blur, the contestants fawning all over Leo while trying to garner as much information as possible from Madeleine. He thrives under the attention, holding court under the gazebo while plying the women with more and more drinks. I watch closely as I see Katie cozy up to him. She traces her finger along his chest toying with the buttons of his shirt. 

“I’m a total hedonistic, you know. I’m all about having a good time…good food….good drinks…good company….” She says breathlessly. 

Leo nods his head, taking a long swig of his drink. “Oh, I think you and I are going to get along famously.”

I turn away shaking my head in disgust. I walk to the other side of the lawn, spotting Madeleine sitting in a group by the pool. She seems to be completely out of her element, her watchful gaze trained on each of the women., appraising each of their answers. At least, until Liam rejoins the party. She stands immediately, making her way through the group. I suck my teeth as I watch Madeleine slide next to him, whispering in his ear.

I feel my cheeks heat up, an unusual feeling overtaking me. I have the sudden urge to dart across the room, pushing her away from him. But the feeling quicken disappears when Liam turns in my direction, giving me the soft smile that he seems to reserve for our interactions, a secret sign that no one else seems to notice. I look over to the gazebo, finding it conspicuously empty.

I look through the crowd, unable to find Leo in throngs of women. I pull out my walkie, “Anyone have eyes on Leo?” I’m met with resounding silence. “Thanks for nothing,” I whisper under my breath. I start to walk back to production, stopping when I hear something coming from the supply closet. I would love to say I’m a better person than this, but I stop and lean my ear against the thin wood. My eyes widen in realization, quickly pushing the door open, shaking my head at the shocked expressions of Leo and Katie, the latter still on her knees with her hand grasped around Leo’s member. 

I clear my throat, “Listen, I’m not above a good closet hook-up myself but maybe you should remember why you’re here.” I look to Leo, “You’re supposed to be helping your brother, not trading blow jobs for favors. And you.” I turn my gaze back to Katie, trying to hold back my most judgmental smile. “I take this as your request to leave the show.”

I shut the door quickly, scoffing to myself at what I just witnessed. I hear Leo calling out my name, but I keep walking. When he catches up, he grabs my arm, whirling me around to face him. “Look, what you just saw….”

“Is the least of my problems.” I pull my arm from his grasp. “She’s your problem now. Good fucking luck.”

He blocks my path again, a slightly sullen expression reaches his eyes. “Look… this needs to stay between the three of us.”

I arch my eyebrow, “I’m not lying to Liam. Apparently, that’s more your style.”

He stops, giving me a serious look. “You go ahead and tell him, gorgeous. But you and I both know that he’s not going to give a shit about me hooking up with that girl.” He takes a strand of my hair, twirling it between his fingers. “Now if I told him you and I were in that closet…that would be a different story wouldn’t it?”

Oh, fuck no, my mind screams. I’m fucking done with today. I’ve had to hide things from Liam, deal with his perfect barbie ex, my boss being an extra shitty version of himself, and now this bag of dicks thinks he can talk to me like this. I stick up my finger jabbing him in the chest. “I don’t know what the fuck you think you saw or heard, but it’s none of your goddamn business. Don’t try to justify your shitty choices by coming at me.”

Leo laughs, instantly making my blood boil. “Relax, darling. I was just trying to see if my instincts were correct.” He leans in closer, whispering in my ear. “You keep my secrets, I’ll keep yours.” He rejoins the party, leaving me alone in the hall, trying to catch my breath. I tell my legs to walk outside, but they won’t listen, keeping me planted in my spot. I sink to the floor, dropping my head to my knees as I listen to Tariq announce the winner of the next individual date. I’m too fucking burnt out to even hear the name being called.

I stay there for a few minutes until I feel someone rub my shoulder, breaking my trance. I look up and spot Liam crouched in front of me, a concerned look in his eyes. “Come on”, he says, holding out his hand. 

I give him a look, unsure of who else is surrounding us. He pulls back his hand but nods towards the door. “Let’s get out of here for a bit.”

I scoff. “I’m not supposed to let you leave the set, remember? Bertrand will fucking kill–”

“Bertrand owes me one for today.” He quickly replies. “As long as I’m back before elimination tonight, we’ll be fine. Let him try to say anything to you.” 

I stand up, slowly exhaling as I walk towards the door. “So what is the game plan. We’re just going to walk through the door…and go where exactly?”

“That’s up to you.” He winks as he holds the door open. 

……………………………………………………………………..

I hand Liam the bright blue color golf club, taking in his confused expression as he holds it in his hands. “So, this is mini-golf.”

I smile up at him, inspecting the neon purple club. “True American past-time.” I bump him with my shoulder. “I thought it might help you work out the tension you’ve been hanging onto all day.”

Liam lets out a deep breath, rubbing the back of his neck. “I don’t know if whacking a little ball around is going to erase the bullshit of today.”

I shrug, moving towards the first hole. “It’s worth a shot.” I line up the ball, whacking it with far more effort than I should. It bounces off a little gnome in the corner, flying into the bushes. Liam laughs behind me as I lean on the club pursing my lips. “Totally meant to do that.”

When I start moving over to the shrub, Liam holds up his hand, leaning down to grab the fluorescent ball. He places it back on the starting mat, stepping behind me. “Do you need me to help you line up the shot?”

“Dream on. I don’t need any help to kick your ass.” I squint my eyes, my tongue sticking out slightly from the side of my mouth. I tap the ball, using much less force than before, squatting down as I watch it bounce off the walls, stopping right in front of the hole. “Dammit!” I exclaim. “So freaking close.”

“You’re making this too easy for me,” Liam says as he taps his ball, stopping about halfway through the green. He frowns. “Or maybe not at all. This is much more difficult than it looks.”

“Not a lot of mini-golf courses back home?” I tease. 

“My family tends to stick more to croquet.” He mimics a stuffy accent. “Much more dignified after all.”

“Of course,” I reply as I roll my eyes. “How could I forgot how dignified you are at all times.”

We laugh through the next few holes, Liam quickly picking up the game. By the time we reach the ninth hole, he seems much more relaxed, the stress of the day completely forgotten. 

“So…” He says as he lines up his next shot. “You never told me how you got so good at mini-golf.”

“Oh…” I answer, twisting my hair in my fingers. “It’s kind of embarrassing.” 

Liam laughs, a sounds that fills my chest with butterflies. “Let’s make a bet. If I make this hole, I get to hear the story.”

“And if you miss?”

He beams back at me. “Then you’re going to tell me anyway.”

I scoff, “Oh yeah? Why would I do that?”

He points to his broad smile. “Because how can you say no to this face?”

“Easily.” I retort. “Better not miss.”

Liam winks at me, then taps the ball. We both watch with bated breath as it bounces off the bumpers, smoothly sliding into the cup. “Fuck”, I whispered with an amused smirk on my face. “Fine. If you really want to know, when I first moved out here, I went on a lot of absolutely awful first dates. And for some reason, all of the guys thought they were being super original by bringing me mini-golfing. You go on about fifteen or so horrible first dates, you get pretty good fast.”

“No good dates?” He asked, watching me with an odd curiosity. 

“Nope, not a one,” I add, tapping my ball with the club. ‘If they were good dates, I would have focused more on them, not the game.” 

“So, no one serious in your past?” He asks, moving to the next hole, stopping to pick up our balls from the cup. 

I arch my eyebrow at him. “Are you using the game to find out more about me?”

Liam lets out an over-exaggerated gasp. “Shocking, I know. That I might actually want to get to know you.”

I pause, rolling my lips together. “A terrible idea on your part. You’re not going to like what you find out.”

He meets my eyes, his honest gaze almost knocking the wind out of me. “I doubt that very much.” 

A small smile breaks through my expression before I clear my throat, pointing to the next hole. “C’mon, we should get moving. People take their mini-golfing very seriously.”

……………………………………………………………………..

As we finish our game, Liam’s score almost doubles mine. I pump my club in the air, busting into one of my ridiculous victory dances, not giving a shit who is watching me. Liam laughs behind me, shaking his head at my over the top movements. 

“Don’t be hating on my moves.” I tease. “You’re just bitter you lost.”

“No hate here, I promise.” He says. “Glad to see you are a gracious winner.”

“Ha!” I bark. “I am the first to admit that I am a terrible winner and an even worse loser. My sisters and I used to throw blows when we would play games together.”

Liam cleared his throat, twirling his club in his hand before setting it back on the stand. “Probably nothing compared to my brother and me.”

“Yeah, no offense, but your brother seems like a huge douche,” I say before covering my mouth with my hand. “Shit, sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.”

Liam lets out a dry laugh, settling on a bench by the entrance, motioning for me to join him. “He wasn’t always. Growing up, he usually had my back. But in the last few years, things have changed. He’s become more selfish, more….competitive with me.” He leans back, crossing his arms over his chest. “Before today, I hadn’t seen him for almost a year. Not since…” He trailed off, his eyes staring off in the distance. 

“Hey’, I say, placing my hand over his. “You don’t have to explain yourself to me. Especially after spending a good part of my day with the guy.” I rub the back of his hand with my thumb. “But I am here if you want to talk about it.” 

He nods, linking his thumb with mine, holding my hand close to his. “I appreciate that. But for tonight, I just want to be two people ordinary on a date, not wasting our time worrying about the nonsense back at the palace.” He lifts my fingers, bringing them to his lips.

I blush at the contact, biting my lip. Suddenly my head perks up in realization. “Wait…who said this was a date?”

Liam rolls his eyes, pulling me up from the bench, linking his hand with mine as we head to the car. “Nice try, Connors. You’re the one who said mini-golf was a date.”

“Correction- I said it was a bad date. No one who ever took me mini-golfing ever went on a second one.”

He stopped, pulling me into his arms before pressing his lips lightly to mine. My mind spins out at the contact, all of the air leaving my lungs. He leans back, a slight smirk tinging his expression. “I think that your luck is about to change.”

I push him away, shaking my head although I’m smiling like a fool. “C’mon,” I call out from the driver’s side. “I have one more stop we need to make.”

……………………………………………………………………..

We pull back into the palace, Liam holding the giant box of doughnuts in his hands. I park into the far edge of the lot, my car obscured by the various equipment trailers. As I pull the parking brake, he opens the lid, perusing the different toppings. “I don’t think that I’ve ever seen this many flavors before.”

I let out a quiet laugh before donning my best posh accent. “Please don’t tell me you are too sophisticated for doughnuts.”

Liam laughs loudly. “See how little you think of me? They are not a staple back home, but I will indulge if I find a quality shop. Although..” he says, holding up one of the elaborately decorated treats. “I don’t think I’ve ever had one of these before…”

I snatch it out of his hand, taking a large bite before he has the chance to respond. “Cronut,” I respond when I finish chewing. “The weird, most amazing fusion of doughnuts and croissants. All the rage back in 2018. They’re dropped off a bit, but I stalked this place when I found out they still made them.”

“Interesting…” Liam said, grabbing another from the box before taking an apprehensive bite. “Oh my god…” he moaned under his breath. 

“Enjoy it,” I add before snatching the box away. “Because that’s the only one you’re going to get.”

“Not fair.” He groans, leaning in to try to grab the box from me. I playfully push him away, taking another monster bite. I give him a goofy, full smile when I notice his expression shift, suddenly more serious. His eyes drop down to my lips, wiping a crumb from the corner of my mouth with his thumb. My breath hitches in my throat, the air in the car suddenly starting to become thick between us. He leans forward, stopping when his lips were a breath away from mine. But instead of moving forward, he turns his head, taking a giant bite of my cronut. I squeal in disbelief, shoving him away from me. 

“You’re such an ass,” I say, shaking my head as I hold the box tightly closed. 

“You love it,” He replies, his mouth full of my stolen cronut. His words weigh heavily in the air, causing my brain to jump into overdrive. Nope, not happening. Way too soon to be feeling anything of the things that are calling out to me. I quickly clear my throat, turning off the engine and hopping out of the car, my box of threats securely tucked under my arm. 

“Get back in there,” I yell over my shoulder. “And if Bertrand is pissed, I’m sending him your way.”

Liam just laughs as he re-enters the palace, immediately climbing the stairs to his suite. I exhale slowly, trying to erase the feelings of the last few hours from my memory. Back to real life and the women who are actively trying to pursue him. 

I walk into the production office, letting out a relieved sigh when Bertrand is nowhere to be found. I find my seat next to Maxwell, opening the box towards him. He shakes his head, no. Instant red flags start flying in my mind. I have never known him to turn down anything with sugar. I open my mouth to ask him about the rest of the day, when he takes off, darting between the monitors and the board, but not actually touching anything. 

“Max…” I call out, “Something going on?”

“Nope. Nothing. Everything is fine.” He replies, still not meeting my eyes. 

I narrow my eyes, noticing how Maxwell seems extra shifty. He keeps bouncing around the room, never staying in one spot for more than ten seconds. Normally, this wouldn’t phase me, his baseline energy level is the same as a five-year-old who’s raided the candy jar. But he’s also being unusually quiet. Yup, all of the red flags are waving now. He tries to step around me, muttering something under his breath about needing to find the call sheet. But I stand in his path, blocking him from sliding past me. 

“I can do this dance all day, Max,” I whisper under my breath, my eyes trained on his. “Now, what the fuck is going on?”

He lets out a deep sigh, running his hands through his hair. “Okay, fine. But not here.” 

He takes my hand pulling me into the editing bay. He motions for the others to leave, locking the door behind them. A sudden cold chill jumps down my spine as I sit in the chair, watching as he plays with one of the computers. 

“Are you going to tell me why we’re in here?” I ask, trying to make my voice seem playful, even though I’m freaking the fuck out. We’re talking about super-sized pterodactyls taking over my insides. Suddenly, I hear my voice ring out from the speaker. 

“This is a terrible idea…..I can’t get involved with a suitor.” 

Maxwell crosses his arms around his chest, staring at my shocked expression, all of the color draining from my face. My mind is blank, there are no words left in my brain. Only the word fuck remains, repeating over and over again.

“You stole my question.” He finally says, breaking the silent stare down between us. “What the fuck is going on?”


	7. Tell Me What I'm Gonna Say and Let Me Edit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Maxwell confronts Andi, she attempts to figure out how to manage her feelings for Liam. Bertrand makes a bold move when he’s unhappy with the show’s progress

“Andi,” Maxwell repeats. “What the fuck is going on?”

“Max….” I finally start to say, unsure of how to even finish my sentence. Should I lie? Lying sounds good. Lying was invented for moments like this, moments when you are fucked six ways to Sunday and you’re backed against the wall. But the audio plays again, my words repeating on a loop. 

“I can’t get involved with a suitor.”

There goes that idea. Fuck, fuckity, fuck, fuck, fuck. I lock eyes with Maxwell’s, his expression a mix of disbelief and disappointment. The look he’s giving me hurts. It hurts a lot more than I ever thought it would. I hang my head, slowly rubbing my hand over my eyes, letting it settle over my mouth. “I don’t know what you want me to say…” I quietly reply. 

Maxwell scoffs as he starts to pace the room. “How about….it’s not true, Max. I would never do anything so stupid, especially after the millions of lectures that I’ve given you over the years.”

“In my defense, you kind of deserved the lectures,” I mutter under my breath. “You have screwed over half the contestants to ever come on this show.”

“But never the suitor!” Maxwell exclaims. “And only after they’ve left the show. Do you have any idea how fucked we are if this gets out?”

“Obviously, I know that! Do you think I planned for any of this?” I exclaim, jumping out of my seat. I start chewing on my thumbnail as my anxious pace starts to match his. “I swear Max, I never meant for any of this. It’s just…fuck! He’s in my head and I can’t stay away from him.”

“How did this even happen?” He quietly asked. 

I sigh slowly, slumping into my chair. “We met at a bar the night before shooting began. He was just some random, hot guy, nothing more. Someone I was never supposed to see again. So I thought I would try to be spontaneous and have some fun for the night.” I scream into my hands for a quick moment. “But the universe fucking hates me, so here we are.”

“Under normal circumstances, I would be proud that you put yourself out there,” Maxwell responds, inhaling slowly. “What’s going on with the two of you now?”

I stop, staring at the image on the monitor at the front of the room. Liam’s face frozen in one of his endearing smiles, the kind that makes me melt to my core. I turn back to Maxwell, my chin starting to tremble. “I have no idea.”

Maxwell sighs, running both of his hands through his hair. “Is it something real, or just a fling?”

I glare at him before my expression falls. “Do you really think I would be putting myself through all of this if I just wanted a fling?”

“I don’t fucking know anymore, Andi!” He exclaims, lowering his voice as he takes a step closer to me. “I really thought after last year…”

“Don’t go there, Max,” I warn, my eyes narrowing. “This is not the same thing.”

“Could have fooled me.” He retorts back. “Jesus, it’s like you have a fucking death wish around here.” He lowers his gaze as he shakes his head. “Have you even thought about what’s going to happen when the show’s over?”

“We’re just getting to know each other Max, it’s not like he’s asked me to marry him.”

“But that’s the point!” He points to the screen. “There are 12 women out there who are here to get married, that’s what he signed up for. He is looking for a wife, someone to drop everything and move across the world to help him build his family’s brand. And they want to do it!” He steps in front of me, placing his hand on my shoulder. “Is that what you really want your life to be?”

“I….I don’t know…” I stammer.

“You need to figure it out, Andi,” he says, his eyes finally softening. “Because if this gets out, you’re going to be blacklisted from every set in town. You and I both know that Bertrand will make sure of it.” He tilts my chin up to meet his gaze. “If what you two have is worth it and that’s what you want, then you know I have your back, no questions asked. But just make sure that it’s really what you want before you throw your life away for someone you barely know.”

I swallow hard, nodding at his words. I want to scream that he’s wrong, that I can make it work. But in my mind, I know I can’t. I have spent the last six years busting my ass to get where I am. And as much as I hate this job most days, it’s the only world I know. I don’t know if I could function anywhere else, where manipulation and deceit aren’t marketable skills. I shudder, what is this feeling? I make a mental note to look up the symptoms of Stockholm syndrome. 

He pulls me in for a tight embrace as I stealthily swipe the tears from my eyes. “Uggh we’re hugging now?” I joke half-heartedly. “What happened to my no-touching rule?”

“You owe me this, Blossom” Maxwell mused. “You just made me be the voice of reason. And you know that goes against everything I believe in.”

I pause, backing away slowly. I clear my throat, my arm wrapped awkwardly around my body. “Thank you, Max…you know, for looking out for me.” 

He beams brightly back at me. “First a hug, now a real, genuine thanks from the Andi Connors?” He held his hand to his chest. “Miracles do happen!”

“Yeah, yeah, eat it up,” I say as I roll my eyes, settling my gaze on the audio clip on the editing bay. “No one else has heard that recording right?”

“Nope!” Maxwell says, unplugging the flash drive from the computer and sticking it in his pocket. “I deleted everything from the main server. I’m just keeping it on here in case you want it later.” He held his hands up in the air. “I can see it now….Andi and Liam: Where It All Began….”

I groan, smacking my forehead with my hand. “I can’t with you.”

“Can’t what? Believe how lucky you are to have me in your life?” He says as he slings his arm around my shoulder, leading me out of the room. “Now we’ve got some dreams to crush. You ready?”

I give him a tight smile as I nod, trying to get my head back in the game.

………………………………………………………

Maxwell walks into the production office while I head towards the patio, the elimination ceremony already being set up below me. I watch as Liam finds his place besides Tariq, his eyes scanning the crowd. My breath hitches in my throat when I realize who he is looking for. 

Me. 

Waiting in the grass are 12 beautiful women, all who were willing to put up with anything to be on his arm. To be his wife. 

I lean on the railing, my knuckles turning white as I grip it for strength. Max is right, what the hell am I doing? Never in my life has marriage been a priority, especially in the past few years. All I have thought out about is my career. I have given up everything for it. Family events, friend’s milestones, any semblance of a personal life. All of it quickly abandoned for this manufactured world. 

Shit, a sobering reality hits me. Max is the closest thing I have to a real friend, and I can’t even stand him most days. I repeat the thought to myself, Maxwell Beaumont is my best friend. “When the fuck did that happen?” I whisper under my breath, rubbing my eyes with my forefingers. Maybe leaving wouldn’t be the worst thing. 

I silence my rambling brain when I hear the director announce that they are starting, Tariq rattling off his usual line of bullshit. “True love, blah, blah, blah…” He calls out into the crowd. At least that’s how it seems to me. I don’t know who thought it was a bright idea to let him ad-lib his lines, but they should be forced to listen to his weekly diatribes instead of me. I’m usually forced to edit out at least half of his speeches in post.

As Liam keeps the usual suspects, I walk into the production office, settling in the back while Max and Bertrand stare at the screen. As the numbers start to whittle away, there are only three girls standing, Katie and two other girls from Max’s camp. I smile to myself, pleased that my numbers are holding steady. I hold my breath, closing my eyes tightly as I wait for Liam to give the final girl his necklace. 

Please, I plead to a deity I don’t believe in, please cut Katie. I can’t deal with the human garbage for one more day, especially after what I witnessed in the supply closet. I shudder to myself, reminding myself to take a boiling shower when I get home, paying extra attention to the spot where Leo’s hand touched my skin. 

“Aria…” Liam finally says, holding out the necklace to the sun-kissed woman in the middle. The swimsuit model standing next to her immediately bursts out into tears. Keep it up honey, these are the moments we live for. 

Katie on the other hand, storms away from the group, pushing past the crew in a fit of rage. She starts to loudly complain about her treatment, uttering the six words that fill me with more annoyance than anything else. “Do you know who I am?” She screams into the camera following her as she yanks off her mic, hurling it into the pool. 

I arch my eyebrow at Max when he looks back at me, knowing exactly what he’s thinking. If he can get her to have a full-on meltdown as she’s heading out the door, I’ll owe him fifty bucks. I roll my eyes, but nod in agreement, feeling in a much more giving mood now that I don’t have to deal with the Princess of entitlement anymore. 

As he dashes off in her direction, Bertrand walks over to the corkboard, pulling down her picture and abruptly throwing it to the side. He then walks over to our outline of events, angrily swiping at all of the key moments we planned to utilize Katie for, the perfect blend of vapidness and vanity to manufacture some need to see moments. 

“Goddammit!” Bertrand exclaims suddenly, tossing his ear piece across the room. He steps towards me, his eyes narrowing in contempt. “What the hell happened tonight, Andi?” 

I shrug my shoulders. “I have no fucking clue. Apparently, Liam didn’t feel the connection with her.”

Bertrand stomped across the room, stopping in front of the board. “We just lost a key player and the most attractive woman in one bullshit move.” He points to Olivia’s photo, “I have a villain who’s barely raised her voice, a fucking idiot who won’t shut up about bringing her poodles into the house, and a bunch of others with zero personality. And now, he just cuts the only he had any chemistry with!”

He stops, pinching the brow of his nose as he inhales slowly. “We have to do something. Now.”

I move over to the board, looking at the remaining women. “We’ve still got some good candidates here. I can plant some stories, get something going. Olivia’s still going to be a fantastic villain, we just need to get her some time with Liam first. We need to build that chemistry a little bit.”

“No,” Bertrand says, as his head pops up, staring off towards the palace. ‘I know what we have to do.”

“Okay….” I say, walking towards him. “You want to share the idea with the rest of the class?”

“Not yet.” He mutters, his eyes darting back and forth. “I’ll handle this myself.” He turns back to me, giving me a pacifying smile. “I would like you to head up to the ski lodge first thing in the morning for this week’s overnight excursion. Make sure everything is prepared before the rest of us arrive later.”

I nod solemnly, heading towards the door. Overnight date. Shit, I was hoping that we wouldn’t have to deal with this just yet. Even though we all know it’s too soon for the show to offer the suitor an overnight visitor, it’s inevitable that one of the contestants will try to get the key to Liam’s suite. Which is almost always successful. 

Maybe this is perfect timing, I tell myself. Max is right, I have to take a step back. To evaluate what I really want before I fuck with Liam’s chance at finding someone better for him. Someone who is actually what is looking for. Not a foul mouth mess that was inadvertently tossed into his path. 

As I try to ignore the aching in my chest, I hear someone calling out my name, turning my head slightly to see Liam running after me. I swear under my breath, debating if I can get away before he reaches me. But it’s pointless. He’s already at my side before I have a chance to cut and run. 

“Hey….” He says, lowering his voice as he leans in. “I was looking for you earlier.”

“You found me now.” I quip as I try to avoid his gaze, “What do you need? I was about to head out.”

“Nothing…I just..” He says, running his hand through his hair. “I wanted to see you.”

I give him a tight smile, turning towards the door, “Well, you saw me. Now, I really have to go. We have a long drive tomorrow, so I need to go home and get some rest.”

“Andi…” he whispers as he grabs my hand, letting go quickly when I shoot him a warning glare. “Is everything okay? You seem…” He clears his throat. “Something seems different.”

“Everything’s fine,” I reply quickly, averting my gaze to my feet. “Just tired.”

He nods, but I can see in his expression that he’s not really buying what I’m trying to sell. Wordlessly, I walk towards the door, closing the entrance firmly behind me as I walk into the lot, leaving the bright stage lights behind me. 

………………………………………………………

The next day passes in a blur, between the two-hour drive and setting up all of our accommodations. We’ve taken over the whole floor of the lodge, luckily it’s pretty empty due to it not being their peak season. I double-check my list, making sure that I have placed all of the girls in the correct rooms, removing the phones and televisions, as well as assuring that we have all of our permissions for our shooting schedule. My list seems to be endless, but in the cold mountain air, I can finally get some clarity. 

As much as I try to block him from my mind, Liam is the most prevalent thought, my recent actions playing like a film reel. I’ve been reckless. I’m a lot of things: stubborn, blunt, and completely brutal when it’s necessary. But I’ve never been reckless. 

Not with my career at least. 

But for the first time, I’ve been ignoring all of my natural instincts, instead letting my heart dictate my actions. Something I have never done before. It’s partially freeing, the idea of just doing whatever I feel like, letting my emotions guide my choices for once. It’s just not reality. 

I chuckle to myself, what the fuck even is reality anyway? We sell this garbage as reality to the masses, promising fairytale love. When in truth, it’s anything but. Each love story has been doctored and processed by someone like me, caring more about ratings and numbers than the hearts of the people we are stomping on. 

Maybe Liam is my karma. I’ve snatched the dreams from so many wide-eyed girls, stoking the flames of their growing attachment while simultaneously working to destroy them. Whispering their secrets in their enemies’ ears, but feigning innocence when their betrayal comes at the most opportune time for me. 

Before I know it, I’m standing at the edge of the skating rink, watching as the group of women clumsily stumble across the ice. Maxwell stands next to the cameraman, pointing and laughing as some of them topple over each other, each one less graceful than the one before. Olivia and Liam skate side by side, engrossed in their conversation with each other. I suck in my breath, trying to ignore the swirl in my stomach. 

But it’s replaced as I watch Tariq attempt to skate into the middle of the date, no doubt spewing some nonsense about the delicate balance of love. About three strides in, he loses his footing, landing squarely on his ass. I let out a burst of laughter as he scrambles around, trying to pull himself up. I make a mental note to save that footage for the end-of-season blooper reel. 

I find my way to the stands off to the side, climbing up a few steps and settling on the frigid metal seat. I rub my hands together, trying to keep the chills at bay. I’m not alone for long before a tall shadow falls on me from behind, Drake helping himself to the spot beside me. 

He nods out to the ice, “Don’t wanna get out there?”

“No fucking thanks,” I respond. “But you can help yourself. I saw a few spare skating dresses in the shop in the main lobby.”

He scoffs, “Not my style there, Connors.”

I bite my lip as I giggle to myself, “Oh god, if you could see the mental image in my mind.”

“Laugh it up.” He says under his breath as he shakes his head. 

“Hey, you’re the one who sat next to me.” I nudge his side with my shoulder. “What were you starting to miss me or something?”

“Or something.” He responds. “Not a lot of options for intelligent conversation around here.”

“I’m taking that as a compliment.” 

“Take it how you want, Connors.” He says, exhaling slowly as he watches Liam work his way through the group of women. “Are you going to tell me why you’re avoiding Liam?”

“Gonna tell me how that’s any of your business?” I snap back, staring at his slightly amused expression. 

“Got me there,” he replies, turning back towards the ice. “I’m gonna head out of here, hit the slopes for a bit. Wanna join?”

I groan, “You really don’t get that some of us are here to work, do you?” I grimace as I watch Penelope slid across the ice, just an inch away from taking out Liam and Kiara. 

Drake laughs to himself as he walks away. “Suit yourself.”

As the date continues around me, I sit back and watch the activities unfold. However, in the corner of my eye, I see a flash of blonde hair start to approach, Bertrand at her side. I jump up, taking the steps two at a time. I immediately run-up to the pair, grabbing Bertrand by the arm. “What the hell is she still doing here?” I snarl at him. 

“Nice to see you again too,” Madeleine replies as she fixes her hair. 

“I have extended an offer for Madeleine to join the season,” Bertrand replies coldly. “I wasn’t left with much of a choice after last night’s antics.”

“You had every choice,” I reply, matching his tone. “You can’t do this to Liam.”

He turns, giving Madeleine a careful smile. “If you will excuse us for a moment.” 

Bertrand takes my arm, pulling me into the quiet space behind the bleachers. “What the hell do you think you are doing?”

“What am I doing?” I spit back. “It’s bad enough that you blindsided him with his brother and Madeleine at the palace. And now you’re bringing her into the fold without even talking to him.” I clench my fists, trying to stop them from shaking. “This is fucked up. Even for us.”

He steps towards me, lowering his voice to a terrifying register, “Let’s get one thing straight here, Andrea. This is my show, my name on the title card. If you have a problem with one of my choices, I suggest you keep it to yourself.” He leans back, returning to his usual patronizing tone. “I’m surprised by you lately. You’ve seemed a bit…off your game. This kind of move is something that would have usually come from you.” 

I feel my cheeks start to flush, from what, I’m not exactly sure. Embarrassment? Guilt? Maybe all of the above. But in spite of everything I want to scream back at him, I know that he’s right. In any of the past seasons, this would have been my idea. And I would have been proud to call it mine. I swallow the lump in my throat, taking all of my fight with it. I silently nod to him in understanding. “Fine,” I muttered through gritted teeth. “But you’re going to be the one to tell Liam.” 

Every muscle in his face tightens, his grimace more pronounced than ever before. But I hold my ground. These are his fucked up mind games and I refuse to get involved any more than I have to be. Not anymore. Not with Liam. 

He slides away from me in one quick movement, immediately cozying back up to Madeleine’s side, whispering assurances to her. I watch for a moment, trying to get a feel for the woman in front of me. During her brief tenure on our set, she seemed anxious, almost apologetic. But all of those emotions were missing now, replaced with a cool confidence that I couldn’t replicate if I tried. 

As the date winds down, Liam returns from the ice, doing a double-take when he spots Madeleine standing with Bertrand. The smile on his face is quickly extinguished, replaced by a tension in his jaws and arms that rarely appears. That look of disdain seems to be reserved for her, and her alone. 

I stay planted where I stand, my view blocked by the staggering of the bleachers. I refuse to be part of this scene, to be associated with this moment for Liam. I can’t.

But then I watch him as he storms off after confronting them, and my feet move before my mind can catch up. I quickly reach out and graze his shoulder, as he turns with a murderous glare in his eyes. It softens slightly when he realizes it’s just me. 

“Oh…Andi…” he sighs. “I thought you were….” he trails off, crossing his arms around his chest.

“Madeleine?” I ask quietly. 

His eyes shoot up at me, narrowing in my direction. “Did you know he was going to do this?”

“No!” I exclaim, shaking my head vigorously. “I found out half-a-millisecond before you. I’m so sorry. He didn’t let any of us know he was planning this.”

“What the hell is he thinking?” He says, his voice starting to rise. “Does he honestly expect me to just go along with this? After everything she did?” 

I hold my hands out, trying to keep him calm. “Bertrand’s not thinking, not like most rational people do at least. He’s only worried about the show, and trying to get the best ratings possible.”

Liam runs his hand through his hair, “I have done everything you people have asked me to do. I should have turned around that first day when I walked in and saw….” His voice trails off as he stares off to the surrounding mountains. “I need some space right now. Can you tell them that I’m done for the day?”

“You got it,” I say quietly. 

He gives me a half-smile as he walks towards the hotel, not turning back in my direction. I stand in the snow for a few moments, trying to stop myself from running after him. I want to console him, to listen to him as he vents about his past with Madeleine, what causes his body to react so intensely at her presence. But I don’t get the chance as the women start filing out, each one heading straight toward me. 

“What is going on, Andi?” Olivia snarls in my face. “They’re bringing back his ex? How is that fucking fair to any of us?”

I hold up my hands, trying to slow the herd of bitter women prepared to stomp all over me. “I’m sure this has been a shock to all of you, but remember, she’s his ex for a reason. Each of you have a fresh start, a new connection you are forming with Liam. She has the past and many difficult feelings that she’s going to have to work through. Don’t think of this as a negative thing. It’s your chance to prove to Liam just how right you are for him.” I point my thumb towards the building. “At least how much better you are for him than Madeleine.”

It seems to appease most of them, the majority of the contestants starting to head back to the resort. I place my hand on my hip, folding in on myself in relief. That could have gone so much worse. “Fucking Bertrand,” I harshly whisper under my breath. 

I follow their footsteps down the path, ready for a warm shower and cold drink when I hear someone call out my name. I squeeze my eyes shut as I turn, seeing Drake’s disappointed face running up to me. 

“Seriously? Fucking Madeleine?” He snaps at me. 

“Okay, I’ve already had this conversation twice already and I’m fucking exhausted.” I rub my hands over my forehead. “Contrary to popular belief, I am not the goddamn complaint department. You don’t like what’s happening, take it up with Bertrand. I’m not his secretary.”

Drake lowers his gaze, “You’re right….I’m sorry about that. I just….I can’t believe he’s doing this to Liam.” He rubs the back of his neck. “This is fucked up, even for him.”

I nod in agreement as the door to the rink swings open, Madeleine curling her lips into an antagonizing grin as she approaches us. “Hello Drake. Long time.”

“Not long enough, Mads,” He replies without glancing in her direction. 

“Oh, come on.” She says with an amused tone. “There was a time where I thought of us as friends.”

Drake scoffs so loudly, I think he’s about to snort. “No, you didn’t.”

“Maybe not…” She replies, holding her nails out in disinterest, “But your sweet sister, Savannah…we were close once.”

With that comment, Drake spins in front of her, his imposing frame hovering a few inches from her face. “Don’t bring up my sister. Ever.”

“Why ever not?” she tuts her lips, “Don’t want Andi here hearing all of your family secrets?” She gives the same slimy smile as she walks away, patting his shoulder as she glides past him. 

“Fuck this,” Drake snarls under his breath, taking off towards the mountain. 

I look back at the hotel, debating what I should do next. I should direct the cameras towards the girls’ rooms, getting their reactions to the bombshell that has just been dropped into their laps. But as I watch Drake skulk off into the distance, I can’t help but follow. 

“Hold up!” I yell as I run after him, my legs working double-time to keep up with his. 

He stops at the edge of the woods, turning back in my direction. “What are you doing out here, Andi? You should head back with everyone else.”

“Nah,” I reply, shrugging my shoulders. “Can’t have our suitor’s friend freezing to death out in the woods. Imagine our liability insurance rates if that happens.”

He rolls his eyes at my sarcasm, motioning for me to follow him. I peek over my shoulder as we walk up the hill, the resort becoming a silhouette in the fading light. Probably for the best that I don’t head back straight away. If one more person takes out their Bertrand induced-rage on me, I’m going to lose my fucking mind. 

“So…” I quietly say. “Where are we heading?”

Drake squints his eyes in my direction. “Do you trust me?”

I let out a sharp laugh. “About as much as I can throw you. And considering you’re about twice my size, we both know that’s not far.”

Drake’s face smirks back at me. “Hey, you’re the genius following me into the woods, you must at least think I’m not a murderer.”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” I muse. “I’m pretty sure I could take you.”

We walk in silence for a while, the only sound the deep sighs coming from Drake. His face is even more brooding than usual, his brow completely furrowed in deep thought. I try to let him have his moment, but it’s getting harder and harder for me to bite my tongue. After the twentieth deep and pensive sigh, I snap. “So are you going to tell me what’s got you so worked up?”

“Nothing.” He snaps. Another sigh quickly follows. 

“I’m calling bullshit on that.” I quip back, poking him in the side. “C’mon you’ll feel better if you talk about your feelings.”

“Oh God, Connors, don’t tell me you’re one of those people.”

“Fuck no,” I respond. “I’m more of a drink or eat away your feelings kinda girl. Punching things also works wonders. But as the only other person around, I’m not really encouraging that one.”

“Why do you ever care?” he asks sharply. 

I shrug, “It may not seem like it, but I am a human, with an actual working heart. You’re upset and if I can help, I want to.” I exhale slowly. “And I still owe you for helping me out with Liam at the track.”

“There it is,” he replies sardonically. “You don’t owe me anything for that.”

I start to retort as we reach the edge of the peak, the cliff opening up to a vast valley below us covered in deep snow. Drake settles on the blanketed ground as I find a spot next to him, both our necks bent to look up at the thousands of stars in the sky. 

“So…stargazing?” I ask with a chuckle. “Got to admit, I’m surprised.”

“What? You think I should only be into manly things like chopping wood and fishing?”

“It would explain all the flannel,” I retort, as my eyes widen, taking in the falling stars around us. 

He lets out a slow, deep breath. “I used to do stuff like this with my sister, back home.” His words are so quiet, I almost miss them. I’m not even sure if I’m meant to hear them. I sit back quietly, letting him continue. “Growing up with Liam and the rest of those guys, I never felt like I fit in. And it didn’t bother me. But my sister, Savannah, she idolized them, especially Madeleine. She had everything compared to us, Savi….she wanted to be just like her.”

“What happened?”

“She…” He took a deep breath, his hands bunching together in his lap. “She got wrapped in their lives. The partying, the drinking, and eventually…the drugs. She couldn’t handle it. The rest of them moved on, starting their real lives and left Savi behind. She was a mess for a while.”

I nod along with his words, his pain radiating from his body, “Where is she now?”

He breaths out through his nose, leaning back on his hands. “I had her all set up in a rehab facility back home, to try to get her the help she needed. But she checked out after a few weeks. Now, I have no idea where she is. I….I failed her. I wasn’t able to protect her.” He rubbed his hands over his eyes. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have brought her up. I haven’t really talked about this with anyone in a while.”

“Really?” I nudge his side with my shoulder. “Does this mean that we’re becoming friends?”

“Don’t push it, Connors.” He replies, but I can see a slight smile. 

“Say it with me now…..friiiieeeennds….” I repeat back to him. He reaches out and shoves me into the snow as I let out a surprised yelp.

“Brought that one on yourself.” He says while I brush the snow out of my hair.

“You’re so dead, Walker.” I say through my chattering teeth. “I’m sicking Penelope on you as soon as we get back.”

“All the more incentive to stay out here, away from the bullshit.”

I bite my lip, wishing I could tell him how much I agreed with him. But in the back of my mind was Liam, and wanting to see if he was okay. How quickly I had forgotten about getting some space from him the minute he became upset about Madeleine. I shook my head, this is exactly what I can’t do. I can’t run to his side every time there is an issue. Space, you’re supposed to be getting some space. 

Drake peeks over at me. “Now who’s the one sighing?”

“Ugh, your melodramatics are rubbing off on me.” I retort. “We really should start heading back. Maxwell has probably lit the lodge on fire by now.”

With one last look at the view, we turn back down the crooked path, walking back in companionable silence. As we start to approach the building, I get a sudden idea in my head. When Drake steps in front of me, I hurl all of my weight into him, sending him crashing into a large pile of snow. He sputters as he wipes the snow from his face, glaring in my direction. 

As he starts to ball up snow, I take off running into the building, sticking my tongue out over my shoulder at him. 

………………………………………………………

When we enter the lobby of the resort, I immediately spot Hana sitting in the corner, staring off into the fireplace. I nod for Drake to continue without me as I walk over to her, settling in the adjacent chair. “Enjoying the quiet?”

She smiles brightly back at me, “I know I’m not supposed to be down here, but I couldn’t help it. I’ve been stuck in that small room with Olivia ranting about Madeleine all night. I needed a break, just for a bit.”

I lean back in the chair, “I won’t tell.”

“Really?” She says, eyeing me with an apprehensive look. “I would have thought you’d be upset with me.“

“Nah,” I say, propping my boots up on the table. “I get the need for space sometimes. God knows you guys don’t get any back at the palace. As long as you promise me no tv, and no phones, we’re good.” I lean forward, picking my body out of the chair. “But you should head upstairs and get some sleep. You want to be rested for the challenge tomorrow.”

She smiles to herself, “I’m not sure that’s going to be necessary. It’s not like I really have a chance with Liam. Not compared to everyone here.”

I turn towards her, “Fuck that. You have just as much to offer him as anybody else.” I take her hand, pulling her up from her seat. “Remember what we talked about before. Do not let these women see your doubts. Keep your head up.” 

“Right…” she says chewing her lip. “I can do this.”

“Seriously?” I say, placing my hand on my hip. “That’s the best you can do?” I shake out her shoulders. “Own your shit!”

She giggles in my hands, her shoulders shaking. “I’m owning my shit!” 

“Much better,” I reply, leading towards the elevators. We both laugh together as the doors open, revealing an exasperated Liam. I wince at the sight of him, looking more haggard than ever before. Hana lets out a small gasp as she moves towards him, placing her hands on his chest, “Liam, are you alright?” 

Suddenly, I’m no longer laughing. My eyes latch onto her hands on his body, his larger ones moving to cover hers. His thumbs gently stroking the back of hers. My jaw twitches in annoyance as I try to steady my racing heart. Before I completely unravel, he releases her hands, stepping away from her. He smiles gratefully down at her, “Thank you, Hana. But I’m alright, I just need to speak to Andi for a few minutes.”

“Oh…” she says, trying to hide her disappointment as she gets into the elevator. “I guess I will see you later then.”

Liam nods his head before turning back towards me.

I try to keep my face neutral, refusing to show any sign of my jealousy. Space, I remind myself, you need to get some space. But as he moves closer to me, that is the last thing on my mind. 

He leans down towards me, his smell flooding my senses, “We need to talk.”

“What’s up?” I ask in a false confidence. 

He exhales slowly before responding. “I’m leaving the show.”


End file.
